


All That Glitters

by Matloc



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi's a pro in the kitchen, Ambiguity, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Experimental Style, Gen, M/M, Mamakashi, OOC, Purple Prose, SO MUCH LITERATURE IN THIS FIC I'M SORRY, So much confusion, author is a pretentious dirtbag, besotted!Kuroko, extra game timeline, ft William Faulkner as the author, implied!AkaKuroMamakashi, jealous!Akashi, lovesick!Kuroko, slightly broken!Kuroko?, stupid literary references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matloc/pseuds/Matloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was not expecting anything in return for my feelings, Akashi-kun, but please do not mock me.” His voice was dead-set in monotone, “However, I do want to know.”</p><p>And he asked.</p><p>For the first time.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Who are you?”</em></p><p> </p><p>//Experimental fic, expect misleading narrative and much more as this fic explores the twisted web of love and deceit surrounding Akashi, Kuroko, and Akashi's mother. [DISCONTINUED]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

**Setting** : AU where Akashi’s mom isn’t dead; Bokushi/Akashi#2 doesn’t have a ‘conscious’ existence, it’s more like Ore and Boku are merged into one; Bokushi here represents the Id/primitive desires of Akashi, so he’s different from canon, therefore expect some **OOCness** ; diverges during Extra Game timeline, where our bbies take part in the street ball tournament that happens before Jabberwock arrives.

  

**WARNING** : vague as fuck; disgusting amounts of purple prose THE AUTHOR IS BASICALLY WILLIAM FAULKNER sorry; lovesick!Kuroko, Akashi trying to flirt with Tecchuya every chance he gets; lots of literary references because I’m a pretentious piece of shit, you can just ignore those tho it’s k; unnecessary Japanese terms that you are free to ignore as well; shitty imagery; not fully proofread

 

* * *

 

 

**SUPER IMPORTANT THINGS YOU NEED TO KEEP IN MIND WHILE READING THIS:**

  1.        This is a **HIGHLY EXPERIMENTAL FIC** , so you can look forward to misleading narrative, vague plot points, potential red herrings, character inconsistencies not being explained until the end, just prepare yourself to hate the shit out of this author basically.
  2.        Akashi’s mom is _fucking weird_ in this fic. She may seem like a Mary Sue at first but OH GOD YOU ARE SO WRONG, I WAS SO WRONG WHEN I STARTED WRITING HER
  3.        No matter what this fic tells you, this is NOT Kuroko x Shiori. You’re free to interpret it however you want but there is nothing romantic/sexual between them even though there's some definite mindfuck going on.



 

 

** All That Glitters **

 

**PROLOGUE**

 

If someone ever asked Kuroko how many times he had fallen in love they would only be met with silence, making them think, with a surge of pity, that he was one of those unfortunate individuals who have never been enchanted by that emotion.

But the truth played a stronger, more melancholic melody, never-ending in the catastrophe Kuroko Tetsuya called love.

Because he hasn’t _fallen_ —that’d imply completion, an end to the hopeless abyss that people so fondly called love, a conclusion to his hand-written tragedy; he has _never stopped falling_.

 

….

 

It’s hotter than 40 degrees, Kuroko could swear, because the heat had finally taken its toll on him halfway through practice, forcing Kagetora to call it an early day. Their captain normally wouldn’t have allowed it but there was no other option when their blue-haired player nearly collapsed on the court had it not been for Kagami’s quick reflexes.

His partner ended up having to carry him outside, all the while grumbling.

“This all happened because you’ve been staying up late to practice that new Shot of yours,” he scolded while slinging Kuroko’s arm around his neck.

The shorter boy tried to look up, but he was just so exhausted. “Kagami-kun, you knew?”

“Huh? I’m your partner after all, silly; it’s my job to know everything.”

Kuroko smiled at that. “Coming from you, Kagami-kun, that sounds very creepy.”

“Hey! Do you want me to drop you?!”

“Shut up already,” a third voice drawled just as Kagami helped the boy onto a bench, “You’re hurting my ears with your screeching, Kagami.”

“What?!” Kagami whirled around towards the vending machine, exploding, “Aomine! The hell are you doing here?”

“This, obviously.” The tanned player waved a bottle of Pocari around, before handing it to Kuroko. “Here, Tetsu.” The blue-haired boy was about to thank him but Kagami immediately snatched it out of his hands.

“No! He’s already had four of these since morning. Any more and this moron will collapse again.” Kagami ignored the glare thrown at him by the shorter boy.

“You gotta let him drink so he _doesn’t_ pass out.” Aomine offered, either not knowing or not caring that his advice might end up destroying someone’s kidneys.

Kagami pointed a finger, “You! Stop encouraging him, Ahomine!”

That set him off faster than a firecracker. “You tryna pick a fight?”

Kuroko had already sidled away as the two hotheads of their team commenced another notorious round of squabbling, finding a quieter bench to rest on with his head in his hands. The sun’s rays scorched wherever skin didn’t touch cotton. “Dammit…” He cringed, trying to massage his skull that weighed like a boulder. Another surge of vertigo left his vision swimming.

He felt more than saw a shadow fall over him, but it provided no comfort in its shade. “Tetsuya.”

His head shot up, eyes wide, to be graced with the sight of pale skin glistening under the sunlight. Crimson eyes stared down, dark and burning him with a different sort of flame entirely.

Kuroko gulped.

“Akashi-kun.” His throat felt like sandpaper. He really should have snatched that Pocari back.

“This is the second time this week.” Said an admonishing voice from what felt like far away as Kuroko’s head pulsed angrily. “We can’t have you dragging the team down, Tetsuya.”

All he could manage was a nod because his voice was steaming in his throat.

There was a pause, and for a moment Kuroko thought he went deaf from the heat surging through his brain. “…uya? Your face is quite red.” Another pause. “Alarmingly so.” Akashi’s voice seemed to shrink, absorbed into the whirring of the trees and the lava pumping through his ears.

He felt a hand on his forehead and flinched at how hot it felt. Or was it his own body that was on fire?

Through his blurred vision, Kuroko could trace lips moving but he couldn’t hear anymore. It felt like someone had dropped an anvil on his head. Another stab of pain and nausea, and he felt himself lurching forward, head colliding with something that felt both hard and soft.

Like an ugly blotch of ink falling on water, the mosaic of the world bled into black.

 

….

 

When he opened his eyes, the world was foggy. All he could see was _red, red, red_.

“Tetsuya.”

Something soft glided through his hair to his forehead, only this time it wasn’t fire that lapped at his flesh, but a comforting warmth that caressed his face. He vaguely recalled a memory from years ago when he was with his mother, who had held him like her precious china set as he lay there coughing and wheezing. Yet it was not his mother’s name that he called out this time.

“A…ka…” His voice choked out not in acknowledgement but as reflex, or perhaps from a seed of hope that slowly bloomed from within.

“Shhh. Go back to sleep.” A lull fell over him, Akashi’s voice washing away the sediments of his malady, in a gentle wave that coursed through his veins and made his budding hope blossom rapidly into thick vines that wrapped around his heart.

_And they squeezed._

Just like that, Kuroko fell once more into the ever-darkening depths of what people called love.

 

….

 

The next time he woke, his head felt much lighter, finally relieved from the weight of the sun.

He blinked, trying to clear his vision, when he heard sounds from near his head. He tried to turn it to the side, cheek pressing greedily into the arctic landscape of the floor beneath.

What he saw made him want to pinch himself because _right now he must be dreaming_.

In his world of basketball, he had met many great people, who shone bright and blinding, but even in this greatness he had never once sought perfection or beauty. And now he knew they could never be sought after this, because she was both of those personified. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Clad in a flowery kimono, she blended with her Edelweiss skin, exquisite in the golden light. She looked like she had just stepped out of a fairytale, fairer than a princess, more refined than a queen. In that she looked untouchable, and Kuroko suddenly understood what poets meant when they said, _is thy love a plant_. [1]

She was also _red, red, red_.

This time he couldn’t hold back a noise of awe, the wonder of a treasure hunter stumbling across a dragon’s hoard.

Sparkling red eyes snapped to his face and a delighted “Ara!” rang through the room like choir bells.

“Sei-kun, it seems he’s awake now.” Her voice flowed sinuously like honey, almost palpable in a way that the air tasted sweet.

Kuroko tried to get up, only to find himself supported by strong hands. “You are still disoriented from the fever, Tetsuya. Take it easy.” Akashi’s voice was right behind his ear, making the blue-haired boy shudder. He politely nudged the hands away and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

The first thing he noticed was that they were definitely not at the court, judging from the expensive wood furnishing that seemed to cover every inch of the spacious room, except for the sliding doors that boasted an intricate design of purple lilacs and hibiscus. A cheerful sun tried to peek through the golden _fusuma_ , casting an ethereal glow into the room.

“This room is very pretty.” Kuroko spoke, finding his voice hoarse, unfit for his words just now.

The woman’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh! The boy fancies this room! You could stay here if you’d like.” Her honeyed voice made it hard for Kuroko to deduce if she was joking or not.

“Stop before you scare him away.” A half-hearted warning glided through the air from beside him, making Kuroko turn to finally look at his captain. He instinctively backed away from Akashi when he saw how close they were sitting, not missing the glint in those red eyes.

“Tetsuya, allow me to introduce you to my mother,” Akashi gestured towards the woman sitting formally and, despite having already guessed their relation, Kuroko couldn’t help but be surprised, for she looked like she been stopped in time years ago.

“Meet Akashi Shiori,” Kuroko bowed his head, and the beautiful woman smiled and nodded in approval. “And Mother, I’d say you have well-acquainted yourself with Tetsuya seeing as you’ve already managed to scare him.”

“I did no such thing, Sei-kun.” She covered her mouth in mock horror and Kuroko was reminded of demure princesses from the period dramas his mother would watch. “Surely you are not afraid of me, Tetsuya-kun?” The twinkle in her eyes told him that it wasn’t a question.

He shook his head, “I am honored to meet you, Akashi-san.”

“Oh my, such a gracious guest we have. But it pains me to have you treat me like a stranger.” She wore a frown on her face, looking as pretty as ever. “Won’t you call me Shiori, Tetsuya-kun?” And again her words were almost corporeal in their sweetness and Kuroko wanted to savor more of it, but he stopped his thoughts from wandering into a strange direction.

“With all due respect, I simply can’t address you so casually.”

A smile played on her lips and it made Kuroko anxious, as if he had just stepped into a trap. “Very well, I will settle for _haha-ue_.”

He blinked, trying to make sure if he had heard her right. “I already have a mother.”

Kuroko swore he heard wind chimes dancing gaily in the wind when she laughed. “Oh, you are absolutely precious. I can tell why my son is so taken with you.” Kuroko tried not to notice the light twinge in his heart.

He began, “Then I–”

She waved him off, “No, I’ve made up my mind. You will address me as such. It is neither casual nor is it grossly distant.”

Kuroko was a great welter of questions right now. “But we’ve only just met.”

“Yes,” there was a sharp glint in her eye and for a second Kuroko thought he was talking to his Vorpal Swords captain.  “And we will be meeting with each other very often in the future as well.”

Her confidence was almost authoritative.

Kuroko felt like he was losing a battle he didn’t even want to be a part of.

The frown on his face only seemed to fan the flames of her amusement as she smiled at him, “I suggest you get some more rest before you go. Your fever only just broke, after all.”

“I agree, you’re still quite warm.” He felt a hand on his forehead and instinctively shied away, and Akashi’s mother shot him a knowing smile.

“Did you know? Sei-kun carried you here and took care of you the whole time.” She said.

“All the way from Aida-san’s gym?” Kuroko couldn’t hide his surprise. Akashi was the last person he’d expected help from. His captain had his kind moments–he seemed to have softened considerably after last year’s Winter Cup–but they were born more out of convenience than altruism. He wouldn’t normally assist people without considering the benefits in return. “I sincerely apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“I had someone drive us home.” Was all the clarification Akashi gave, rather nonchalantly. “More importantly, are you properly taking all your nutrients? You are rather light for your size.”

Kuroko’s eyes automatically dropped to the other’s arms, noticing the muscles poorly hidden by his shirt, and resentfully wished that he had taken up weight training too.

He also wished to run his hands over those arms and check if they were as firm as they looked.

Feeling a blush form on his cheeks, Kuroko immediately looked away lest he learn that Akashi had the ability to read minds too.

“No, you just have an abnormal physique, Akashi-kun.” He could never forget how Rakuzan’s captain had managed to dunk over two of Seirin’s tallest players. It was absolutely ridiculous to have that much raw power. Kuroko fought the urge to pout.

He wasn’t successful, as Akashi smiled graciously. “Is that a compliment?”

“No,” replied Kuroko, blunt as ever.

“I shall accept it as one nevertheless.”

“That’s not how compliments work, Akashi-kun.” But Kuroko had already been tuned out by the taller boy.

He felt eyes on him and looked back at Shiori, who seemed rather fascinated by their back and forth. For some reason, not sure if it was the heat or if it was her calculating gaze, Kuroko could feel his palms sweating.

“Sei-kun, I will take it from here. You’ve got _shodo_ next, have you not? You have wasted enough time as it is.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room fell.

At first, Kuroko had thought he was only imagining the weird tension in the air while the two were talking, like something was _unnatural_ with the way they interacted with each other, but now he could feel himself being almost suffocated by the tense atmosphere.

Akashi threw a sharp look at his mother but said nothing. He stood up smoothly, as though he had expected this, giving Kuroko a brief glance. “Indeed, I do have prior arrangements I must attend to, as unfortunate as it is. I suppose you will have to enjoy Mother’s company in my absence, my apologies.”

She huffed, “I am much better company than Sei-kun is.”

Akashi had already slipped out the door.

Her face relaxed into that congenial smile of hers again, wiping clean Kuroko’s thought process as he tried not to be bewitched by her.

“Well then, do tell me more about yourself, Tetsuya-kun.”

“I play basketball with Akashi-kun.” He began.

“Oh, how wonderful!” she cheered, “I heard there will be a tournament soon. Will you be in it?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s a street ball tournament.”

“Oh? Surely your team must have a name then.”

“We’re called Vorpal Swords.”

Her eyes lit up. “What an intriguing choice for a name. Tell me, Tetsuya-kun, do you know of Lewis Carroll?”

“The author of _Alice in Wonderland_?” He asked.

She made a sound of approval. “In his book, _Through the Looking-Glass_ , the vorpal sword is used to slay a beast known as Jabberwock.”

His brows rose in recognition, “We do have an opponent with the same name.”

She laughed a little. “No wonder. Whoever came up with your team’s name clearly wanted to give a spectacular challenge. Will you be going against them?”

“The team that wins the finals gets to have a match with Jabberwock.”

“Then you must definitely seize your chance at the finals.”

He gave an eager nod. “We certainly don’t plan to lose.” Blue eyes blazed with determination.

Shiori smiled, “I like those eyes, Tetsuya-kun.” She looked at him with a certain fondness that made his heart flutter. “Would you like to know how the Jabberwock was slain, my child?”

He sat up straight, all traces of fatigue gone with the wind of excitement. “Yes, please.”

“Very well. Let me tell you about the poem, _Jabberwocky_.”

 

….

 

“I must say, you are quite the attentive listener, Tetsuya-kun.”

He smiled, feeling much more comfortable in her presence now. It was hard not to fall for her charm the more you spent time with her. She was certainly more welcoming to companionship as compared to her son, and Kuroko was easily lured in by her amicable mien.

“I do share a great love for literature.” She was also the first person who had shared her extensive literary prowess with him, referencing relevant stories and characters throughout the explanation of the poem with such fluidity as though she were spinning an epic tale out of a spindle of magic and wonder, and all Kuroko could do was sit there and listen, spellbound.

 “What a coincidence,” Shiori’s lips curled into a captivating smile, “So do I.”

He was starting to learn just how similar she and her son were.

As if on cue, Akashi knocked on the _shoji_ before sliding it open.

 “Oh, you’re rather early.” His mother said without turning around.

Akashi raised an eyebrow. “It is already dusk.”

Kuroko blinked in surprise, turning around to see the garden outside being consumed by decaying orange. Had they really been talking for so long?

It was jarring, the feeling of being yanked back into your world when you had just lost yourself in another, one much fantastical and marvelous than your own.

“Indeed it is. I suppose that supper’s already being prepared?” At Akashi’s nod, his mother turned to Kuroko, “Would you like to have supper with us, Tetsuya-kun?”

It scared Kuroko how close he was to saying yes, how easily a sweet lilt in a voice had almost coaxed him into agreeing. He stood up and bowed. “Thank you, but I must respectfully decline. My parents would grow worried if I stayed any longer.” Kuroko was the one turning down the offer yet he was also the one who felt disheartened by his own words.

Shiori took it in stride, “Very well. However, I do expect to have a meal with you tomorrow. I don’t suppose you have any plans for the next day?”

Kuroko’s eyes widened, having never been invited so boldly before, especially for something other than basketball. “I’m sorry but there’s basketball practice…”

A sharp voice cut in, “Absolutely not. You will be resting until you’ve fully recovered.” Akashi walked towards him. “Moreover, it’s the weekend, so the next two days will be off for us. Surely you are not so busy as to have prior appointments with other people?” Kuroko would have thought this was a jab at the diminutive size of his friend circle, but this was Akashi-kun, more annoyingly blunt than he was malicious.

Shiori hid a small grin behind the sleeve of her kimono.

“Well, Tetsuya-kun?”

The answer came instantly, “Then I graciously accept your invitation.”

A triumphant look passed on her face. “Excellent.” Kuroko could tell where Akashi got his overwhelming confidence from. Like a silvertongued prophet, who only need predict a string of events for it to be woven into reality.

“Tetsuya, I’ll walk you home.”

Kuroko shot him a suspicious look. “I’ll just use the train.”

“That is fine, I shall walk you to the station then.”

He wondered if Akashi had caught his fever from him. “… I don’t want to impose. Akashi-kun has already done so much for me.”

“Nonsense, it’s dangerous when it’s dark out,” Shiori interrupted, sounding overly eager as she continued, “Sei-kun will be happy to escort you to the station.”

That made Kuroko feel like some damsel, but he had this odd feeling that if he voiced his issues then Shiori would somehow find a way to use his words against him. So for the umpteenth time that day, he found himself conceding to this curious woman. He felt like a snake being charmed into dancing to the tunes played by one Akashi Shiori.

“Well then, let us be on our way.” Akashi made his way towards the inner corridor and Kuroko shuffled behind him.

“Tetsuya-kun, will you slay the Jabberwock?” Shiori’s voice stopped him at the threshold, Akashi already a few paces ahead.

“We will: like I said earlier, we don’t plan on losing.” His voice rang with a resolve stronger than before and Shiori nodded in approval.

“Good, I’d like to see the epic battle with my own eyes.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement but also with promise.

Happiness pooled inside of his stomach. “Yes, _haha-ue_ ,” he turned around and smiled softly, “I’d like that.”

Bathed in the fading streaks of incandescence, Shiori practically glowed.

 

….

 

The stars had already started dotting the sky by the time he caught up to Akashi. The mansion was enormous as it was ornate, with various intricate carvings decorating the beams and railings.

“Tetsuya,” the taller boy began when Kuroko was close enough and walking right behind him down what seemed like an endless corridor. “I expect to never see this sort of recklessness again. The tournament preliminaries start next month, we cannot have our shadow slacking off.”

“Yes, Akashi-kun.”

“Your training menu will be doubled starting next Monday.”

“… yes, Akashi-kun.”

“Ah, I do apologize for leaving you alone with Mother. She can be rather eccentric.”

Kuroko shook his head, forgetting that Akashi couldn’t see him. “I truly enjoyed her company. Akashi-kun’s mother is a very fascinating woman.” There was a fondness tinging Kuroko’s voice that made the taller boy smile slightly.

“Oh?” Kuroko looked up to see Akashi deep in thought. “Tell me, Tetsuya, do I still fascinate you?”

The blue-haired boy froze in his tracks, a certain memory he’d rather forget suddenly polluting his brain with unwanted emotions. “Akashi-kun is cruel.” Kuroko said, voice so soft it was almost carried away by the evening breeze.

Akashi paused and turned around. “How so?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“You already know the answer.” Kuroko spoke to nothing.

“I do.” Akashi gave an all-knowing smile and stepped forward.

The shorter boy immediately moved away. “It’s getting late, Akashi-kun. We should get going.”

Akashi blinked, seemingly surprised more by himself than Kuroko’s reaction. “Yes… yes, we should.” His voice trailed off, a whisper of clear befuddlement falling to the wind.

 

For the rest of their trip to the station, a thick silence hung in the air, suppressing unspoken words that rang with the echoes of an indelible past.

 

….

 

As the world was gradually embraced by darkness, Kuroko lay in bed, dreaming of the past he could never leave behind.

It came upon the day of his resignation from Teikou’s basketball club.

It had just been the two of them, or that’s what his memory told him. He couldn’t recall where they had shared their final talk as club members. Was it the gym? The club room? The student council room?

All the missing details, the time, the place, the weather, the people, they’d been distilled like impure water.

Impure, polluted, unnecessary – that was what the world had become, the world that did not contain Akashi Seijūrō.

And the world that did contain him, Kuroko himself had slowly become sullied by it. It muddied his vision until it contracted to the symmetry of Akashi’s shadow, as if Kuroko’s eyes were forcefully glued to a looking glass, through which all he could see was _red, red, red_.

But then he’d turned his back to Akashi, having handed over the club resignation form, ready to filter himself out like Kuroko had done to the rest of the world.

Until a voice stopped him, cruel in its lack of malice, because it hurt Kuroko all the same. What made it worse was that he couldn’t blame Akashi for the turn of events, so he blamed himself.

“Tell me, Tetsuya.” This was the one moment where he had wished countless upon countless times on a moribund star to let him turn back time and shove his past self out the door, to erase the damage that was about to be done.

“If I had returned your sentiments, would you have stayed?”

The world hinged on a bizarre angle. A broken kaleidoscope that only refracted red.

Kuroko spun around, disoriented along with the world.

“How… what?” He was too shocked to deny it, but more so it was the question itself. It was a string of words being strummed to sound a cantankerous melody within the air in his lungs. It was cranky, disjointed as though it was an utterance separate from Akashi, grossly different from what comprised the very framework of Akashi.

“Hmm, no. You wouldn’t have.” Akashi talked to air, as if to say that Kuroko’s presence was not required.

The revelation broke something inside Kuroko, piercing into him like a funnel that only filled him with a numb feeling. It ate away at his emotions, his spirit, his senses, and it overflowed with a heavy nothingness that was, perhaps, the only thing spurring Kuroko on now.

“I was not expecting anything in return for my feelings, Akashi-kun, but please do not mock me.” His voice was dead-set in monotone, “However, I do want to know.”

And he asked.

For the first time.

_“Who are you?”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]It’s taken from a Wordsworth poem about unrequited love haha ummm wow I’m already writing like a pretentious shithead and it’s only the prologue.
> 
> Current progress rests at 20,913 words. Expect an update within the next week!  
> Ourghhh this is taking forever to write. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT but I’m almost at 50 pages now so I decided to snip off the introduction and post it as a prologue.
> 
> At first I wanted to base Shiori’s personality around Fujitsubo from Hikaru Genji no Monogatari, but I scrapped the idea because it was for very specific reasons that Genji fell in love with her and I didn’t want to emulate those reasons for Kuroko.
> 
> oh and do tell me how confused you are right now haahahHAAHAH /cries/ I'm sorry if the story sounds super weird/terribad to you guise it only gets worse from here on I'm so sorry


	2. Furtherance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akashi is apparently good at making desserts, what have I done to u akachin.
> 
> Once again, sorry for the vagueness/weirdness. keep in mind the unreliable narrator this shithead of an author is and you will do just fine... probs

 

The next morning glared upon him. Kuroko woke up with a start, his heart racing a mile a minute. It had been a while since he'd had that nightmare.

It always ended at that question, never a continuation. His mind seemed to have blocked out the memories. Even a conscious attempt at recalling the events left holes where there should be links. Not that it mattered. Even the strongest link could not reconnect Kuroko’s world back onto its hinges.

And so Kuroko forever swayed, on a misaligned plane that had broken apart from its foundation. A foundation bearing the name of Akashi Seijūrō.

Perhaps Kuroko had finally come to an understanding of what the red king had once told him.

_“A plate that has been cracked will never be whole again.”_

 

….

 

It came as a surprise to see Akashi at the station, to see his eyes light up when Kuroko stepped out of the exit, to see him actually waiting for someone. Waiting for _him_.

It was Shiori’s idea, Akashi explained on their way to the mansion. She feared that Kuroko might end up getting lost, since he’d never taken the route during the day. The shorter boy had to ask if she really thought him to be so careless, to which Akashi just gave him a pointed look that made Kuroko want to Ignite Pass him a dumbbell.

“She doesn’t seem like a worrywart,” he mused some time later.

“She’s not,” Akashi replied, “You’re just special.”

Kuroko didn’t know if it was the words or if it was the way Akashi’s lips curled that gave him butterflies.

The rest of the way was blanketed by silence. But it felt different than last time. It was a quiet bliss, both of them enjoying the other’s company without a need for words. It reminded Kuroko of the old Teikou days, in the rare instances that found the two of them alone. Be it in the gym, the library, or playing spectators to a friendly match amongst the other members of Generation of Miracles. There was no idle chit-chat – it wasn’t needed, the silence spoke for them. It spoke to Kuroko like a romantic ballad sung by a nightingale, echoing dreams of the heart through the emptied streets. [1]

The mansion looked even more imposing during the day. It sat like an ancient castle, overlooking an ever-evolving Tokyo from the stronghold of a timeless realm. Kuroko found it fitting for someone like Akashi.

“I feel like we’re in a palace.” Kuroko remarked with all the wisdom of a commoner as he followed Akashi through the atrium.

“Hardly,” he heard the laugh in Akashi’s voice.

“It’s true.” Kuroko protested. “Akashi-kun is like the king of this palace.”

“Oh? Then Tetsuya must be the queen I have brought home with me.” Akashi concluded.

Kuroko considered the likelihood of getting away with murder.

“… I take it back. Akashi-kun is more like that wicked chancellor you always see plotting to overthrow the king.”

“I do not mind such a title, if that is what it takes to win the hand of the queen.”

“Why is Akashi-kun only persistent for the weirdest of things,” Kuroko grumbled.

“Do not make me repeat myself, Tetsuya. I have already told you: you’re special.”

Kuroko was glad that the taller boy hadn’t turned around even once, because he was sure that the blush on his face could have put a rose to shame.

Shiori greeted him with a smile, not moving from her seat at the table. Shimmering under the sunlight, her _furisode_ wrapped around her in gold. It was a sight to behold really. Not an ounce of discomfort visible on her face as she sat there wearing layers and layers of brocade silk in the summer heat.

“Tetsuya-kun, I’m glad to see you again.” Shiori greeted sweetly.

“The pleasure is mine, _haha-ue_.” He returned in his usual monotone, betraying no excitement.

She smiled in amusement.

“Well then, I will leave Tetsuya under your care.” Akashi announced.

Kuroko turned to the door. “You’re not staying?”

“Of course not,” Shiori chirruped, “I requested a meal with Tetsuya-kun, not you _and_ Sei-kun.” She threw a pointed look at her son who only sighed, making his way out the door before sliding it shut.

Kuroko tried to hide his shudder. Shiori must be quite the fearsome woman if she could so easily control her son like that.

Moments later, a knock came from the other side of the door accompanied by a female voice, “Shiori-sama, it has been prepared.”

“You may enter.”

A small maid slid the door open and bowed, a tray in her hands that looked too big for her to carry. Shiori took the tray from the maid, thanking her before she dismissed her.

“Shiori-sama! Please let me serve you.”

“No, I will take it from here.” Shiori stepped back and gestured towards her blue-haired companion.

The maid gasped, as if having just noticed the other occupant of the room for the first time.

Kuroko paid no heed, a polite nod being his only reaction. The petite woman hastily bowed and slid the door back shut.

Shiori came over to the table, setting the tray down.

Kuroko marveled at the sight. “This is…”

“ _Kaiseki_.” [2] Several little dishes sat on the tray, each looking more appetizing than the next. She began setting the ceramic plates down on the table. “Have you ever tried it before?”

He shook his head. “Not one this… elaborate.”

Eagerness laced her voice, “Then allow me to show you the way of the imperial court.”

He reached out to help her with the dishes, only to be smacked away.

“Your job is only to observe, Tetsuya-kun. There is a certain art to Japanese cuisine, which I shall teach you now.”

She stunned Kuroko with her elegant smile, and so he sat there, watching her meticulously arrange the plates with the ease of an experience host.

Kuroko wondered if she had been thoroughly trained to receive her guests. She moved with the grace of a swan, not an inch of her movements wasted.

She was right; it did look like a work of art by the time she was done.

“Well then,” dainty hands passed him the _sakizuke_ , “I hope you like _hamachi_.”

 

….

 

Sharing a meal with Akashi Shiori was an enthralling experience. Every delicate movement resembled the dance of a peacock, mesmerizing Kuroko. He realized that everything Shiori ever did or said held some meaning, like a chess master who calculated every scenario beforehand, and only when victory was certain did Shiori make a move. Even her willfulness when she had first met him seemed to have been planned and it was obvious that the outcome had been already decided before Kuroko even said a word to her.

She and her son were more than identical in that aspect. It wouldn’t be a surprise if this was a trait carried by blood.

He was nearly stuffed by the time they had reached the dessert. A gorgeous display of sesame panna cotta dressed with black sugar syrup. The bowl was painted with black sesame paste, giving it a dynamic feel that complemented the overall simplicity of the dessert.

Sumptuous didn’t even begin to describe it.

“It looks rather appetizing, does it not?” At Kuroko’s enthusiastic nod that contrasted his blank face, she laughed. “Sei-kun prepared it specially for you.”

He almost dropped his fork. “Akashi-kun made this?”

She giggled behind a flowery sleeve. “Sei-kun’s the type to seize whatever opportunity he gets to make a good impression, though I suppose it’s more of an unconscious motivation on his part.”

“There is no need to impress me; I already know how amazing Akashi-kun can be.” It wouldn’t be out of bounds to call Akashi a jack-of-all-trades, if not for the fact that he also proved to be adept in all of them. Kuroko suspected it was less out of interest and more of a need for perfection in every field because of his title as heir to the family fortune. “Although I’m a bit surprised that he knows his way around the kitchen.”

“It’s only to be expected; I personally instructed him in the art of self-sustenance, after all.” Shiori stated. Kuroko wondered if fancy Italian desserts really fell into the quota of simple sustenance – let alone it being an art form – but perhaps such a degree of grandeur was characteristic to Akashi’s family.

Being lost in his thoughts, the blue-haired boy nearly missed it. It was only for an instant, like when the surface of water breaks when disturbed. Almost imperceptible, hardly what one would call a ripple. Yet he caught it all the same. Even though it was just for a moment, Shiori’s face gained a far off look that spoke directly to Kuroko’s heart.

Within a blink of an eye, her face put on its cheerful mien again. And just like that, the moment was gone as if he’d been peering into still waters the entire time.

The sharp tug at his chest, however, remained with him for the rest of the meal.

 

A while later saw him stepping out of the room into the main hallway, having reassured his host for the nth time that he would not get lost. He thanked her once more and left with a promise of tomorrow that Shiori had easily squeezed out of him. Kuroko was afraid that this might just become a regular affair, but the idea didn’t bother him as much as it should.

He did regret making the mistake of trusting his unreliable memory to help him navigate this maze of a mansion. Every turn of the corner led him to a new area and it was enough to convince Kuroko that the whole place was enchanted to keep intruders out with its labyrinthine make up.

He was about to call out to a wandering maid for help when a voice beat him to it.

“Tetsuya, I was looking for you.”

Kuroko turned around to face Akashi, and it was all he could do to keep his jaw from hanging open at the sight.

Today was the day Kuroko learnt that Akashi Seijūrō looked absolutely irresistible in a yukata.

The taller boy either didn’t notice or didn’t care for Kuroko’s sudden failure in the speech department as he signaled him to follow. Kuroko trotted behind him, all the while observing how the sleeves of the yukata hung so impeccably off his shoulder blades, making his back look wide and strong, all the more resembling a king. It was quite hard for Kuroko to suppress the urge to run his hands over that regal back, just to see how to it would undulate under his touch.

Akashi led him into another room, somewhat smaller than Shiori’s, but still wide enough to make Kuroko feel like an ant. The layout was vastly different too, forgoing ornate décor for a more simplistic style where everything was organized with a level of orderliness that reminded him of Midorima. A beautiful portrait of Shiori hung above one of the shelves, which had a violin resting on top of it. A shogi board lay in waiting at the table in the center of the room.

Kuroko clutched the hem of his shirt. “Akashi-kun’s room is very big.”

“Not arranged for by my request, but I suppose space _is_ comfort.”

He motions for Kuroko to sit on one of the chairs at the balcony. Kuroko was hardly thrilled about the prospect of being all alone with Akashi in his bedroom, and the breathtaking view of the garden that greeted him as he stepped past the sliding door provided little comfort to his tumultuous thoughts.

“I do regret having to leave you with my mother again. Duty calls at the most inconvenient of times.” Akashi sat on the opposite chair, which, for all intents and purposes, might as well be a throne. Kuroko wondered if such a grandiose posture came naturally. Akashi leaned against the chair with his right ankle lying on top of his other leg, a hand rested on the right armrest, holding up his tilted head – completing the image of a lazy emperor.

But it was the smoldering gaze Akashi levelled him with that truly sent shivers down his spine.

“Akashi-kun works too hard.” Kuroko commented with his perpetual impassiveness, but to his own ears it still sounded like a complaint.

“I have not much use for free time.” The redhead waved his hand dismissively, and even that light gesture carried the grace of a ruler.

“Then again,” he continued, his eyes not once leaving Kuroko. It was not intimidation the shorter boy felt, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach. “Enjoying your sole company like this every once in a while is rewarding in its own right. I might expect more encounters of this nature in the future.”

The implication fell on him with the force of a hammer. While Shiori was used to charming desirable responses out of people, her son went straight for the kill. “It’s hardly an encounter if you actively seek me out, Akashi-kun.”

“Revealing my plans like that isn’t very romantic of you, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko raised a brow. “I didn’t know you were fond of such notions.” In fact, romance was a concept that seemed beyond Akashi’s grasp.

Akashi’s handsome features hardened into stone and every last bit of his personable air seemed to have vanished, leaving Kuroko with the impression of a gun cocked to his head.

“You’re right; I’m not.” Akashi smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “And yet I can’t help but be drawn to you.” He didn’t sound particularly delighted with that statement, in fact it sounded more like an observation than a confession. So there it was again. That deep-seated droning of something so terribly wrong with all this. It didn’t quite show on the surface but there was no way Kuroko could mistake the pallid hands of something dangerous that lurked below, waiting to grab his feet and drag him in. It brought back memories of that accursed day, when he’d asked that question.

When the Akashi who had indirectly rejected him was a different one.

It wasn’t anything major. One could even pass it off as a mood swing. But what Kuroko saw that day and what he was seeing right now was the very same core but with a different alignment of the structure around it. It was like a few parts had switched places, simply bringing about a new configuration of all the same pieces that made Akashi.

Even so, Kuroko found it hard to deal with, especially after the mess he’d made last time. He still had no idea how Akashi noticed his feelings for him, and the prospect of the taller boy having already realized that those feelings never actually died unnerved Kuroko a whole lot. What really concerned him, though, was how, despite being different, this Akashi still managed to rouse the same feelings within him.

So he changed the topic. “Thank you for the dessert, by the way.”

Just like that, all traces of Akashi’s earlier persona evaporated. “Ah yes, the _mizumono_. I suppose it was to your liking, then.”

“I loved it. Akashi-kun can be quite amazing sometimes.” The panna cotta was a slice of heaven melting inside his mouth. He wanted to tell him that he’d love to taste his cooking again sometime, but it was as suggestive as it was innocent and he didn’t want to make his mess any bigger.

The redhead looked very pleased. “It’s not every day I get to hear such kind words from Tetsuya.”

“Surely Akashi-kun receives enough praise as it is, especially when you’re donning such attire.” He hadn’t meant for the last part to come out.

Akashi blinked, straightening up on his seat before stretching a hand towards Kuroko’s forehead. It blazed and scalded and burnt through his resolve, and for the first time Kuroko didn’t fall into the abyss – he jumped.

One touch was all it took for Kuroko to forget about the world of hurt brought on by what happened that day, and what might possibly happen today.

 “You’re being unusually forward today. Are you still unwell?” Akashi made a show of checking his temperature, and his touch still burned, but Kuroko didn’t move.

He didn’t move when Akashi looked at him with eyes that darkened with a realization even Kuroko couldn’t come up with. He didn’t move when the hand on his forehead slowly slid down to his cheek. He didn’t move when a thumb stroked his cheek with all the love and care a sculptor held for a statue made out of glass.

But he couldn’t help the shiver that rode through his skin when Akashi’s voice dropped dangerously low, calling his name like a whispered spell that enchanted Kuroko, near incapacitating him.

Because he slumped against the other’s touch when he heard him say, “Does this mean you’re welcoming my advances?” By then Kuroko’s mind had already gone blank.

He became a doll in Akashi’s hands. With strings for a heart that had stopped beating the moment he fell in love.

And so, just like a doll, all Kuroko did was slide his eyes shut and drop his head.

 

To anyone else, it would have looked like a nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] did I just reference an actual ballad called The Nightingale by Coleridge? Yes I did im such trash I can’t stop with these obscure references no one cares about  
> [2] It’s a multiple course cuisine, similar to French haute cuisine I guess.
> 
> so I decided to just cut this whole thing into snippets to make them easier to digest, because a constant stream of (unreliable) at times non-linear info might be a pain to go through. Plus, it allows me to post updates faster as I keep writing, so that's good, right? (;´・`)>
> 
> Sorry the first chapter is like half the size of the prologue, probs cuz the prologue itself is so damn long /CRY, but I thought it was best to end it here  
> i'm guessing the chapters will be of varying length, depending on where I decide to end them, but I promise there's gonna be a lot more to read next time, so until then! (￣▽￣)ノ


	3. Vicissitudes of Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: Akashi becomes a bit OOC(I think) from here on out soRRIESSS. and oops @ Kuroko's abandonment issues, I just can't get enough of exploiting that
> 
> oh and I didn't try to go into detail about the way Akashi's house is designed, but I based it on the legendary Himuro Mansion, which is known to have some odd rooms so I'm sorry if Akachin's place doesn't really match the traditional Japanese household.

 

This was already his third time in the mansion and he was lost. Again. Though he blamed it on the excessively complicated layout of this household more than anything else. He definitely didn’t blame Akashi, who didn’t pick him up today so he had no one to guide him around the house.

And he _definitely_ didn’t feel disappointed at all. Especially after yesterday’s events.

His face tightened into a frown as he thought about what had happened. It all felt like a dream. He knew that Akashi had always paid a bit more attention to him and, though rare, was especially nice to him at times, none of which Kuroko complained about, but he had never known what to make of it. He’d just chalked it off to Akashi-kun being weird like that.

It was the only conclusion he could come up with that didn’t feel like a knife to his heart.

Like what yesterday had felt like.

He still felt like a puppet on strings that hung on every word Akashi uttered. Kuroko had never been an expert on romance, on love, or on relationships. So what did it mean when nothing really happened between them after that one moment they shared in the sweep of the afternoon sun?

More importantly, what did Kuroko want to happen between them?

He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind when a maid appeared in the hallway. At this rate, Kuroko would perhaps be lost forever in this grand maze, so he accepted it as his loss and called out for her.

“Excuse me.”

The maid squeaked, whirling around. Kuroko realized she was the one from yesterday. “O-oh, I didn’t see you at all! I’m so sorry!” She bowed.

He returned her gesture, “Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“Oh yes! Shiori-sama’s honored guest. We’ve been informed about your arrival.” She smiled, all nervousness from before seemed to have vanished. “Shiori-sama is currently occupied, so she asked us to take you to the library in the meantime. Please follow me.”

Library. Kuroko didn’t need to be asked twice. His feet automatically followed after the maid.

The first thing that greeted him when the maid opened the door was this faint fragrance that reminded him of the flowers he’d seen in the atrium. The source was hidden by the array of beautifully designed wooden bookshelves. It was a forest of books, books, and more books, and he didn’t mind being lost in here forever.

A hand came into his vision to disrupt his fantasy as it gestured towards a long table. “Please wait here.” Suzume, as how the maid had introduced herself on their way here, pulled out a chair for him. Kuroko thanked her, sitting – almost sinking into the soft cushion, and he thought what a perfect reading place this was.

Suzume flashed him another smile. “Allow me to prepare some refreshments for you while you wait. What would you like, Kuroko-kun?”

“Do you have vanilla shakes?” came the automatic response.

Suzume blinked a couple of times, her smile never fading. “My apologies, Kuroko-kun, I don’t believe we have that. Could I perhaps interest you in some pastry?” He started to reply. “With vanilla cream.”

His mouth closed, and that appeared to be all the answer she needed as she went out the room after saying, “Wonderful! I’ll be back shortly.”

Moments later, Kuroko was enjoying a cream cake that an overly cheerful Suzume had placed in front of him. It was sort of unsettling how she looked like she was about to blow up into sparkles when he tried it out and told her his opinion on it, thanking her once more before she bowed and left. An image of Kise came into mind and Kuroko shuddered at the thought of several exuberant blonds running about in this mansion as servants.

He swallowed a piece too quickly when Akashi appeared in the doorway. It came as a disappointment to see him not wearing a yukata this time. A feeling that Kuroko immediately pushed to the back of his mind in his irritation.

“Tetsuya, I was told you’d be here.” The redhead sat down next to him, pulling his chair closer, much to Kuroko’s chagrin. Why couldn’t he enjoy his vanilla cake in peace?

“Hello, Akashi-kun.” He greeted before returning to nibble on the cake.

Or he tried to, if only Akashi hadn’t grasped his hand and held it up to his face, placing the fork in his own mouth.

And if only his heart had stayed still as he watched Akashi steal his slice.

The taller boy loosened his grip but didn’t entirely let go, which only served to annoy Kuroko more.

“Hm. Very sweet.” Only Akashi could sound disappointed and utterly pleased at the same time.

Kuroko pulled his hand back and pushed the plate away from Akashi’s reach. “Please get your own if you’re hungry.”

He went back to eating his pastry, ignoring the light chuckle as he put the fork in his mouth. He decided he wasn’t going to share anything with Akashi ever.

“I wasn’t particularly hungry.” A blasé statement deserved a blasé response but when the blue-haired boy refused to look at him, Akashi placed an arm on the back of Kuroko’s chair. “I am in the mood for something else, though.”

“Then please go have it.” _And leave me and my cake alone_ , Kuroko added mentally.

A hand gripped his chin and Kuroko met scarlet eyes that seemed to burn through him.

“I have your permission then, yes?” Akashi’s face was dangerously close now and Kuroko’s body chose not to heed his demands.

“I do believe it is time for your horse riding session, Sei-kun.” Kuroko’s savior came in the guise of Akashi Shiori, and he finally found it in him to move away.

The taller boy all but glared at the intruder. “Mother, I’m starting to believe that you’re doing this on purpose.”

 “Well, I can’t have you stealing Tetsuya-kun from me. Or have you forgotten whom it is that he made plans with?” A challenge blazed in her eyes.

The tension in the room stayed thick before Kuroko finally felt the heat pull away from his side. The pang of disappointment that followed didn’t allow him to feel relieved, though. “I shall see you soon, Tetsuya.” Akashi flashed him an expectant look.

He held back a sigh, “Yes, Akashi-kun.” With a slight upturn of his lips, Akashi left the room.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Tetsuya-kun.” Shiori gave him a smile of her own and all his irritation melted away like ice. At times, she resembled her son way too much, and every time it made his heart float.

“It’s fine, Akashi-kun kept me company.”

Shiori traversed the library for a while, looking comely as ever in her kimono, before coming over with a large book in her hands.

She sat across from Kuroko. “Ah yes, wasn’t that sweet of him,” she remarked airily. “You have my sympathies; it must be hard having Sei-kun for a lover.”

Kuroko felt his face heat up. “We’re not lovers.”

Her eyes lit up in understanding. “Ah, I see. Not yet, I suppose?”

He looked down, “I don’t know.” His voice was soft but his words felt heavy.

Shiori studied him for a few moments, before sliding over the book she had been holding. “Have you ever read this, Tetsuya-kun?”

He admired the intricate design surrounding the words _One Thousand and One Nights_. “Yes, I used to read this all the time when I was younger.” Shiori saw a child whose eyes shone brighter than the sky outside.

She smiled, and for a second Kuroko was reminded of his mother. “Do you remember the stories?”

He nodded. “Some, yes.”

She beckoned Kuroko to lean closer. “My sweet child,” her voice saccharine, “Won’t you be my _Shahrazad_?” [1]

 

….

 

A flock of sheep.

That’s what Aomine called the group of girls surrounding Kise. He wasn’t wrong about it. Aida Sports Gym’s recent influx in female members could only be attributed to the model becoming a regular there. And since the courts were reserved solely for Vorpal Swords (Kagetora was extremely enthusiastic about ‘making Jabberwock eat dirt’ so he made sure his team had uninterrupted 24/7 access to the courts) the only time the fangirls got to see Kise was early in the morning before the team’s workout sessions. As such, waking up just to end up dealing with noisy female chattering was the last thing any early morning riser would be looking forward to.

So it was understandable that Aomine was more than a little miffed when Kise bounced his way over with a stupid grin on his face after waving off his fans.

“Kurokocchi! Aominecchi! Good morning!” The spacious lobby made Kise sound all the more boisterous.

Kuroko understood the source of Aomine’s irritation, but he still thought there was a better way to deal with it other than pulling up Kise’s shirt over his face and turning him blind as a bat.

“I don’t wanna see your annoying face so early in the morning.” With that he set sauntered off to one of the training rooms, ignoring the whines pouring out of the wiggling human caterpillar.

Leaving Kuroko to deal with it all.

“Please stay still, Kise-kun,” the shorter boy tugged the mess of stripes and limbs back down with more roughness than was needed.

Kise didn’t seem to mind though, as he proceeded to wrap his arms around Kuroko’s neck and that was enough of an indication for the phantom player to prepare himself for another one of Kise’s dramatic routines. “Kurokocchiiii! At least you care!”

Kuroko sighed, taking out his handkerchief and wiping Kise’s crocodile tears, “Please stop crying, it makes your face look ugly.”

“How mean!” But having Kuroko rub his face was enough to subdue the blond. Kuroko had his suspicions that Kise liked to act spoiled around him for reasons unknown, judging from the content look blooming on his face, but Kuroko didn’t mind as long as he got his peace and quiet later.

That blissful expression immediately warped into one of pure horror as Kise spotted something behind Kuroko, prompting the blue-haired boy to turn around to come face to face with their captain. Kuroko immediately dropped his hands and pulled away when he saw that Akashi looked less than pleased at the moment, his polite smile fooling no one.

“Akashicchi, good morning…” Kise laughed nervously.

“Good morning. It’s good to see you both so energetic right off the bat.” Kise didn’t need another hint to put his energy to better use as he whispered a ‘ _He looks pissed!’_ into Kuroko’s ear and rushed off to where Aomine went.

“Hello, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko greeted, not returning his smile. Maybe Akashi was cranky in the mornings, but he asked himself if Akashi even had the capability of waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Tetsuya.” His voice was light but carried the undertone of a brewing storm, suggesting that matters were more serious than any morning mishaps. “Come. We have much to discuss regarding your fitness regime.” Kuroko was compelled to follow as Akashi headed towards the weight training room.

Once inside, Akashi handed him a thin file. “Keeping in mind last week’s performance, I’ve modified your workout schedule. You will be focusing on your endurance training from now on. I expect you to go through this file within the next hour.”

Kuroko nodded. “Yes, thank you for all your help, Akashi-kun. Is there anything else?”

Red eyes narrowed. “Tetsuya.” Akashi stepped closer and the room temperature suddenly dropped, freezing Kuroko to the spot.

“I do believe you owe me an explanation as to what I encountered in the lobby just now.” Akashi’s piercing stare was fire engulfing Kuroko’s nerves. He chose to remain rooted to his place even when the redhead came so close that Kuroko was blushing from more than just the summer heat.

“I don’t believe I did anything wrong.” He answered resolutely.

“What a strange thing to say, when I don’t remember allowing you to touch anyone else so casually, Tetsuya.” Kuroko’s eyes widened.

His face now caged in Akashi’s hands, and his back blocked by the door, Kuroko’s options of escape were narrowing to nil.

“Akashi-kun, please calm down.” He didn’t know which one he was speaking to, his thundering heart refusing to tell the difference. The concern in his voice seemed to have reached his captain, however, because the very next moment Akashi pulled away as if his touch would rot a rose.

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you, Tetsuya?” Akashi asked a breath later. “There is something inside me.”

Kuroko waited for the answer that had eluded him for years.

“And it wants _you_.” It was less than a whisper but it rung louder than the chime of a clock tower in his ears, oscillating repeatedly until all of Kuroko’s thoughts swung with Akashi’s words. “I wonder when it awoke. Was it the day when we last spoke as club members?” He mused to himself. Kuroko couldn’t tell if it was introspective or a viewpoint disconnected from Akashi himself.

Kuroko saw the world unhinge again, and now he was almost teetering off the edge.

“That day I hurt you,” came Akashi’s inference. Blunt as if he were reading the news. Kuroko said nothing but Akashi studied him like an open book. “You’re well aware that was never my intention.”

Kuroko released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “Yes.”

“And yet you still do not accept me.”

Kuroko was stunned at that.

He felt hands on his face again, this time much more gentle, holding Kuroko like glass. “Tetsuya,” Lips brushed against his forehead and he wanted to break away from Akashi because suddenly there was a lump in his throat and he was choking on words that didn’t exist. “What is holding you back?” Akashi leaned their heads together, warm against Kuroko’s temple. Kuroko knew, though, that his own face was hotter right now.

Kuroko’s mind remained blank in the heat.

It was a thought he’d never entertained, but only because he wouldn’t dare to. No, he was too afraid for that–

Afraid of what?

“You’re normally quite stubborn, Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice was so tender just then, unlike anything he’d ever heard from anyone else and it filled him with an emotion that told Kuroko that it was only Akashi, it would only be Akashi and no one else. There could never be anyone else and Kuroko couldn’t tell if this was a curse or a boon or just some childish caricature of Fate he’d drawn for himself like a lovesick fool. It made him want to laugh, to know he’d already lost himself in the storm left in Akashi’s wake. Kuroko had already become a stranger to himself.

He asked himself why he had run away back then, why he’d never confronted Akashi despite his feelings, despite Akashi’s rejection, and why he was trying to run away now when all he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around the taller boy and forget the rest of the world.

The answer had come long before the question itself, in a picture Kuroko kept on his desk, proudly for all the world to see. It used to be one of the biggest milestones of his happiness, only to be overshadowed by a period in his life when simply looking at it had become impossible without the jab of regret that came with. It took the entire year leading to the Winter Cup to change that, and he thought he was finally at peace with himself, and with the rest of the people within the wooden frame.

Yet there was a part of Kuroko that always wondered:

When did the smiling faces of the Generation of Miracles start to scare him?

“I want to hear you say it, Tetsuya.” Their lips were so close that for a moment Kuroko thought Akashi was going to kiss him, but then he continued, “Tell me you’ll accept me.”

Kuroko wanted to, had always wanted to, even on the day that haunted him in his nightmares; he’d already known that he would have come back, lain his heart on a silver platter for him, if only his captain had called out to him that day, telling him to _come back_ _come back please call me back and I will come to you_. Now his words were stuck in his throat and so he knew this wasn’t the right time.

He grabbed the hands on his cheeks. “Please wait, Akashi-kun.” He said, slowly pulling away. He squeezed Akashi’s hands to reassure the redhead – or himself? He didn’t really know. “I want you to wait for me.”

The taller boy studied him for what felt like ages before he let his hands drop. “If that is what you wish for.”

He stepped back and Kuroko finally felt like he could get his breathing back to normal.

Until he lost it again when Akashi pinned him with a look that screamed _you should run_. “However, I hope you don’t expect me to just sit around.” There was a certainty to his voice that rang clear like a siren in Kuroko’s brain.

Kuroko might have just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

 

….

 

Akashi had been right, like always. Kuroko’s body was truly grateful for taking the weekend off. There were no incidents during practice this time, Kuroko reported to alleviate Shiori’s motherly worries.

But not all of them, as she pressed Kuroko for more. “And?”

He blinked in response.

“How are things going with my son?” She was way too happy discussing her son’s love life, but Kuroko had already started growing used to her spontaneity.

Shiori didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice. “Things are fine.”

Her disappointment was near tangible. “So you two didn’t get together yet? Really…” She pouted and it caught Kuroko off guard how this was the same woman who never failed to dazzle him with her erudite commentary on even the most mundane of things. It was like talking to a scholar and a gossip magazine at the same time, if only at different intervals. That wasn’t the weirdest thing about her by far, and perhaps it said more about Kuroko for becoming so intrigued by an eccentric like her. He couldn’t help it; he wanted to see if there were even more sides to her personality and if they were all just as charming.

“Why not?” when he didn’t respond, she continued, “I thought your feelings were mutual.”

Mutual wasn’t the word he’d use for whatever Akashi might feel towards him. In fact, it sounded like a gross exaggeration. All Akashi told him was that his other self wanted him, and Kuroko didn’t believe for one second that it was out of any sort of love for him. But Kuroko didn’t know what else to think; Akashi seeing him as a plaything was a thought that hurt Kuroko much more than any unrequited feelings. He didn’t want to think Akashi was capable of being that cruel, but the lines were already starting to blur with the way he’d been acting lately.

Akashi was generally disinterested in people unless they were of some long-term merit to him. Outside of basketball, Kuroko didn’t remember possessing any remarkable qualities. With his lack of presence, he was less than another face in the crowd.

Someone easily forgettable.

How odd, Kuroko had never thought about it this way. Nietzsche, for all his nihilistic narration, never mentioned how dreadful a thing love could be. It made you feel like you’re on top of the world and then dragged you down to the ends of the earth to make you feel absolutely useless and meaningless.

Just staying by Akashi’s side, be it as a friend, as a teammate, or as an opponent – Kuroko had to ask himself, when did that stop being good enough for him?

“Oh my, you are so fascinating to observe, Tetsuya-kun.” A sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up in confusion. “You’re like a doll at times, yet your emotions are so visible on your face. Like how you look right now.”

“What do I look like?” he asked.

“Like you might come apart if I touched you right now.” Shiori didn’t hide the curiosity in her voice, didn’t cover up the desire in her eyes to do just that to Kuroko.

Something from inside gripped at him, trying to pull him away, but it was too weak for Kuroko to notice as it got choked back down.

It took a while until he was sure he could speak again. “ _Haha-ue_ , do you ever wonder what it’s like to be forgotten?”

She raised a fine brow. “Is that what scares you?”

“I’m not sure, but it has been bothering me lately.” He thought about the picture on his desk, the Generation of Miracles in their Teikou uniforms, all smiles. Kuroko feared it might become a thing of the past, or that _he_ might become a thing of the past, but he honestly couldn’t tell which was worse.

Just then a knock interrupted them. A maid, someone other than Suzume, slid open the door, carrying a small tray with her. “We’ve prepared some snacks for Shiori-sama and her guest.”

“I don’t remember requesting any.” But Shiori made no move to dismiss her.

“Rest assured, Shiori-sama, we made sure it is to your and Kuroko-kun’s liking. Speaking of which… ” The maid scanned the room before her eyes moved back to the table. Suddenly she gasped, but then immediately covered it up with a smile as she set started setting the contents of the tray down in front of Shiori. “Here you go, Kuroko-kun.” The maid placed a slice of cake and a tall glass at his side of the table.

She bowed and left after they both thanked her. Kuroko picked up the glass and put the straw to his lips, and a familiar comfort flooded his palate.

“It tastes like vanilla shake.” He said, awed. It wasn’t quite the same but it tasted just as sweet and cool on a midsummer’s day.

Shiori fought an amused grin. “Do you like those, Tetsuya-kun?” He nodded lightly, sipping at the milkshake. “I believe this must be the first time the household has prepared such a beverage.” Shiori claimed.

He set the glass down. “They’re very delicious, especially during summer.”

She allowed a smile this time. “Indeed, looking at you, I can’t ever find it in my heart to disagree.”

Her smile widened at the blush she received.

“This just proves you don’t have much to worry about.” She spoke after some time.

He looked up, fork in mouth. Shiori had the strongest urge to pet him.

“Your foolish notion about being forgotten.”

Shiori tapped on his glass.

“Tetsuya-kun, if you were meant to be forgotten then there would have been nothing memorable about you in the first place.”

 

The world knew Akashi Shiori as a total enigma. Born into a family of politicians, she valued servitude more than friendships. She knew how to push the right buttons, how to say the right things to get people to unwittingly bend to her will. Despite her eloquent words, she maintained a reserved attitude with the people she dealt with: amiable but distant enough to keep everyone hanging in her web covered with poisonous honey. Bewitching people was her _modus operandi_. Or at least it was in the past, when she had been at the peak of her career.

Anyone who knew of Akashi Shiori’s conniving nature would be astonished to hear such honest words coming from her now, but the radiant smile she received in return explained it all.

 

….

 

It had been more than a week and Akashi had yet to make good on his so-called promise. Something which Kuroko was extremely glad for. It was better to give each other time to sort out their own feelings, and Kuroko hoped that by the end of it he’d gain the courage to properly confess, regardless of the outcome. Akashi deserved at least that much.

A part of Akashi wanted him, Kuroko knew that now and he also knew how ridiculously happy that made him. He felt stupid and embarrassed but most of all angry that his heart wouldn’t listen, only continuing to beat its frustrating rhythm of staccatos and legatos, picking up into rapid thrums, then ebbing into a gentle wave, only to randomly pick up again because being with Akashi was exciting, but it was also the most peaceful Kuroko had ever been. He couldn’t get enough of it but at the same time he was scared that someday it would disappear. That he’d been asking too much and giving too little and so whatever there was between them would end up waning away with time.

If things started to change between them, he'd be risking it being forgotten someday.

Kuroko sighed, stepping off the treadmill, only to bump into a wall. “Oh, it’s Kuro-chin.” The wall spoke.

“Hello, Murasakibara-kun.” He greeted after catching his breath.

“Hiii.” Murasakibara was sitting on a nearby bench, a bag of snacks in hand.

“What are you doing here, Murasakibara-kun?” The purple-haired player normally trained with Akashi, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“I got bored.” He unwrapped a maiubo. “And hungry.”

Right. There was a vending machine on the way here. Although why it offered unhealthy snacks was something Kuroko would have to ask Kagetora.

“You look bored too.” He spoke through bites.

Kuroko didn’t know what compelled him to do it. Maybe because Murasakibara looked so disinterested, and Kuroko needed someone who would care the least. Because he didn’t want to hear any advice or opinions, he only wanted to confide.

“I’ve always believed in you, Murasakibara-kun,” Kuroko started, “I believe in all of us.”

Murasakibara gave no indication that he was listening, but he also made no move to get up.

So Kuroko continued, taking a deep breath, “But sometimes I think we might forget. Forget things. Important things.”

It wasn’t until a while later that Kuroko’s de facto confidant finally looked up at him. “Eating maiubou all the time gets boring after a while,” Murasakibara confessed.

Kuroko was met with a dull stare.

“I forget the taste and then I don’t wanna eat it anymore. But,” he gestured for Kuroko to come closer only to stuff the half-eaten maiubou into Kuroko’s mouth. “If I share it with Kuro-chin, it starts tasting good again.” He tore open another wrapper and put the stick into his own mouth.

Kuroko just stared at the purple-haired boy for the longest time with the maiubo hanging out of his mouth.

“I think, as long as Kuro-chin is there, I don’t need to worry about forgetting,” he paused to gulp the last of his snack down, “Important things.”

Kuroko found it funny that Murasakibara of all people was trying to reassure him. It seemed that the taller boy had changed when he wasn’t looking – they had all changed, Kuroko realized, suddenly feeling like he was walking on clouds.

So he sat next to his giant friend, happily munching on the maiubou, thinking of a time when things were much simpler, and then thinking about the present, the things that were different, but also the things that stayed as they were, and he learned that things might never be the same again. They were already changing, and Kuroko accepted that he could do nothing to stop that. But, perhaps, it was these changes that made what they had all the more worthwhile.

“Please don’t pat my head, Murasakibara-kun.”

“Eh? But your hair feels like cotton candy.”

“No, you can’t eat me either.”

It was a surprise Midorima didn’t immediately run off to Akashi when he stumbled upon a purple giant attempting to cannibalize on a blue midget.

 

That night, Kuroko fell asleep smiling at a wooden photo frame. The Generation of Miracles at his desk smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]The name of the woman who entertained the king with one story every night to avoid (postpone) her execution. all these references someone stop me
> 
> I'd say this is one of those chapters where you really need to keep in mind that this fic is misleading (or trying to be). next chapter will either clear things up or leave you more confused, though maybe that's just cuz I'm shit at writing mystery (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))
> 
> I've still got 5 HUGE segments to complete but I don't think it will take much longer before I can call this disaster finiiiished! /prepares confetti in advance
> 
> see you all next time! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/


	4. Eve and The Serpent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***The Hellenistic period refers to the age of massive cultural expansion of Ancient Greece brought about after the death of Alexander The Great. It saw the spread of Greek Civilization through parts of Asia and Africa in the wake of his conquests. **Stoicism** is one intellectual movement that flourished during this time. As you can guess from the name, it promoted indifference to worldly troubles or perils, and to not become a slave to one's emotions. I just perverted the definition a bit to add some ~~poetic flavor~~ pretentious trash to my commentary because I'm a douchebag who is apparently not over her emo teen angst poetry days. sorry (probably)

 

 

“Tetsuya-kun,” Shiori cooed at a nervously sweating blue-haired boy. “It will be time for Tanabata soon.”

“Yes, haha-ue.” Kuroko, despite having grown used to her capriciousness in the past month, still had a hard time predicting what her next plan of action would be, or how long it would take for Kuroko to—usually with mild reluctance—follow through with her idea, for that matter.

“Surely you wouldn’t let a lady go to the festival all by herself.” She smiled sweetly, tilting her head behind her fan. It was a mystery how she’d invent a new way to ask Kuroko out every time, let alone why she’d always do it in such a roundabout manner when both of them knew that the boy would concede regardless.

But one of the reasons Shiori liked Kuroko was because he put up a fight. “I’m sure your son would be happy to fill in the role of your escort if you would just ask him.” He countered politely.

She held back a grin, “Except Sei-kun will be having dinner with some of our business partners in Kyoto on that day. You must understand how utterly dismayed that makes me, Tetsuya-kun.” She added gleefully.

“I could always reschedule if Tetsuya intends to come along to the festival.” In came Akashi with his impeccable timing, which Shiori pointed out with a cheer.

“Sei-kun! You’ve come right on time.”

Kuroko’s eyes instantly snapped towards the figure walking into the library, trailing over the charcoal black robe perfectly draped over Akashi’s lean body. A delicious collarbone peeked out from under his yukata and Kuroko suddenly became well-acquainted with the affliction of adolescent impulses. So one could hardly blame him for looking away when Akashi decided to sit right next to him, neither could one fault Akashi for wanting to see just how rosy Kuroko’s cheeks could get as his knee brushed ever so slightly against the shorter boy.

“Tetsuya-kun, do you have a yukata for the festival?” Shiori asked.

“Not really. I haven’t been to many such events.” Besides, who could resist empty public libraries, totally deserted by regulars on special occasions like this? While he did have a penchant for observing people, making up life stories as readers of all kinds and ages came and went, he enjoyed reading Nietzsche’s poetry in the tranquil of only the wind whispering, only the print of ink talking.

But Kuroko didn’t mind a change of pace from time to time, which is why he didn’t protest when Shiori exclaimed, “Oh, that is absolutely unacceptable!” Although he wasn’t expecting her to turn to her son and ask, “Sei-kun, would you be so kind as to lend dear Tetsuya-kun one of yours?”

Kuroko wanted to tell them that he could just come in his casual attire, like what he was wearing now, but one arrant glare from Shiori made him gulp down his suggestion. “That will not be necessary. I already had one prepared for Tetsuya.” Akashi replied.

The satisfied look on Shiori’s face made Kuroko wonder just how far along she had planned this. “As expected.” She gave praise. “You may try on the yukata with Sei-kun. Come to my chambers when you are done. I’d like to see it for myself.” She smiled expectantly and vanished out the door.

Akashi stood up next, “Come, Tetsuya.” The command served as a perpetual leash on Kuroko’s neck, pulling him along wherever Akashi went.

“This looks brand new.” Kuroko commented warily at the yukata in his hands, eliciting a brief chuckle from Akashi.

“No, I know Tetsuya would turn down expensive gifts, although it’s hardly an expense on my part.” His lips quirked fondly at Kuroko’s frown. “This is from one of my older collections, I simply had it modified to your size.” The desire to appease Shiori was quite literally the only thing keeping Kuroko from committing an atrocity in the Akashi household over the blunt jab at his smaller stature. Instead, Kuroko simply offered an amused Akashi his characteristic glacial stare before trudging over to the mirror. He was about to take off his shirt when he felt chills down his back and blue eyes lifted to glare at the culprit through the mirror.

“Akashi-kun, please don’t stare.” Kuroko requested, his patience wearing thin as Akashi raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t see why you must act so shy now, unless you’ve forgotten our countless exploits in the locker room in the past.” Akashi said without an inkling of shame.

“Please do not say things that can be easily misinterpreted,” Kuroko chided. “And I would like to maintain the decorum of this place by keeping to basic decency.”

“Ah,” Akashi nodded in understanding, “Naturally, you would be more open to this in the privacy of a penthouse suite. I shall remember that for next time.” When Kuroko blanched at that, however, Akashi decided to spare him further embarrassment and averted his eyes, but only after offering the inner chambers for Kuroko to change in, fiercely shot down when the shorter boy realized that meant being in the vicinity of Akashi’s bed.

“Akashi-kun, why do you even have this prepared?” Kuroko asked as he fumbled with the _senui_ , glancing at his captain through the mirror. He was sitting at the table, his eyes glued to the shogi board, the wooden clack of the pieces filling the room. He looked naturally at ease here, so different from when he was around others or on the court, where his intimidating aura permeated as far as the eye could see, leaving most people awestruck in his wake. His expression was still fixed with piercing focus, which made even Kuroko nervous sometimes, but it was tempered with a certain softness like he’d finally gotten the chance to put his guard down. So when Akashi looked up with those same eyes locking onto Kuroko’s, the tie nearly slipped out of the smaller one’s hands.

“I already knew you would be coming for Tanabata, Tetsuya.” Akashi stated in his usual matter-of-fact manner.

“But what if I wasn’t invited? What if I had other commitments?” Kuroko knew they were pointless questions when Akashi cocked an eyebrow.

“I know Mother quite well. She had no reason not to invite you. And the only other commitment you have is with a library,” How did Akashi know about that? Kuroko would have asked but he’d rather be kept in the dark about potential stalkers. “By process of elimination, only one possibility remained. I simply took the liberties to plan accordingly.” Akashi revealed. Kuroko had gone out a couple of times with Shiori and, aside from how stunning she looked in a summer dress, she had never made a fuss about appearances. But being the romantic that she was, he wouldn’t put it past her not to be gung-ho about a festival like Tanabata, tragic lovers and all.

For the sake of his sanity, Kuroko decided to pretend this conversation never happened, focusing on the task at hand. It must have been quite a while since he wore a yukata, because it felt heavy on his lithe frame, he couldn’t get it to tighten up, and his shoulder kept slipping out of the panel of the robe. All the while Akashi observed like a hawk, the weight of his sharp gaze trailing over every inch of naked skin made Kuroko nearly forget what he was doing. It was evident that Kuroko was having trouble, his grip always loosening on the string: the only thing that was keeping his yukata together, and also the only thing keeping his restraint from falling apart. And the smoldering look he received from Akashi as he called him over certainly didn’t help, with Kuroko wordlessly allowing himself to be lured.

“This will be easier if you sit down,” the redhead and so they were sitting, knees touching, hands brushing, as Kuroko held on to the string so tight it chafed his palm, but he only felt Akashi smoothing over the _tomoeri_ , felt his hand slowly traveling down the line of Kuroko’s throat and meeting his ribs, “You look so alluring in my clothes, Tetsuya,” and Kuroko had to suck them in because his skin was so sensitive now against the cloth, against the smooth pads lightly digging through it, and _oh_ , “Better than I expected.” The room suddenly changed, it tumbled sideways and the roof slid into his vision, but all he registered was Akashi looming over him.

Nimble hands parted Kuroko’s collar, sliding in until Akashi’s palm flattened right above his drumming heart. Akashi might as well just rip it out, because it was racing so painfully fast that no doubt it was in danger of wilting like some bloated rose. Kuroko was so close to giving in, to give back what was being done to him, because the yukata above him fluttered open just barely, teasing him with a milky trail that disappeared much too early into black folds. But a voice yanked him out of the fog, into the relentless grasp of a ghost from his memory that echoed a forgotten promise in his ears.

_‘Not yet.’_

“A-Akashi-kun.” Kuroko gasped as Akashi’s hand slipped downwards and grazed his nipple, earning an appreciative look from the redhead. Before the hand could travel any further, Kuroko clutched at the sleeve around it. “Wait,” his breathless voice only managed to spur Akashi on. “Akashi-kun.” This time it was sharper, firmer, stopping Akashi. Though he looked less than interested in whatever came out of Kuroko’s mouth that weren’t intelligible sounds dragged out by his touch. “You said you’d wait for me.”

“I also warned you not to presume any inaction on my part.” Akashi quipped, almost sounding offended that Kuroko had forgotten about it.

“I didn’t agree to that.” Kuroko protested. “Let me go please.” He wanted to lift himself up, but then Akashi pinned his neck down.

“You must not resist, Tetsuya,” cold fingers caressed his jugular, “I will remove anyone that gets in my way, but only you I will not let go.” Kuroko swore he saw Akashi’s eye flash gold, suddenly Akashi had become a predator about to devour his prey, and that snapped Kuroko out of it. He blocked Akashi’s mouth with his hands, pushing him back up till Kuroko finally remembered to breathe. Akashi looked positively flummoxed, eyes wide, blinking like a broken lamp post, and under different circumstances Kuroko might have even laughed.

But he’d heard the dark promise on Akashi’s lips, so familiar it struck a chord deep within Kuroko’s memories, from another time, another voice. “Please put yourself in my shoes. I have no other choice when you attack me like this.” He argued with his composure of steel.

They stayed still, awkward and stubborn, and then Akashi was the one relenting. He sat back with a sigh, tugging Kuroko’s tomoeri into place and when Kuroko pushed himself up, Akashi tucked the ends of the string into the _koshihimo_. Now the shorter boy could almost pass for a son of some distinguished traditional household.

Kuroko glanced down at his yukata, all prim and proper, no shoulders clumsily peeking out. “Oh, thank you, Akashi-kun.”

Kuroko’s gratitude didn’t assuage Akashi, who was boring holes into him with his inquisitive gaze. “Why do you insist on pulling away, Tetsuya? I have given you your space to sort out whatever it is that bothered you. Knowing you, Tetsuya, I can’t imagine you leaving your matters unresolved for this long.” His voice softened, a ghost of a smile hiding in the slant of his lips, “Out of all of us, you’ve always been the one most steadfast in your convictions, after all.” It was this tenderness that poisoned Kuroko’s mind, weakened his resolve, and it would gently pry away his fingers, one by one, from the edge of sense and reason. And he would fall once more. Into the desolate ruins that people fondly called love.

As though an alarm had gone off his head, Kuroko’s defense mechanism kicked in. “Please don’t say such things when you don’t even share the same feelings towards me.” He levelled Akashi with a scowl, who could only sigh at the incredulity of the situation.

“Tetsuya, for someone so observant you can be rather oblivious.” Akashi said with a laugh oddly sweet, but it only left a bitter aftertaste in Kuroko’s mouth. “Perhaps you’re right, it’s not quite the same. I shall tell you how.”

Kuroko clutched his sleeve.

“The other me, you provoked it when you failed to deny my claim that day,” Akashi informed coolly. “Now, it wants to lock you away in a cage, where no eyes or hands can reach you. And Tetsuya,” Akashi’s voice dropped low, “There are times when I find myself almost giving into it.” The silence in the room was deafening. Akashi broke it once again. “But I don’t wish to hurt you in that way,” Kuroko heard the slight hesitation, saw how the skin under his eyes tensed when he softly added, “Again.”

For once, it hurt to see Akashi smile. In a way that made him look defeated, like he had lost something.

It only lasted for a moment, that weakness, a broken barrier that wasn’t replaced but fortified into steel walls. Because that’s what Akashi Seijūrō was, an impenetrable fortress razing everything in its path, deterred neither by victory nor by defeat as it went on to conquer anything and everything like a force of nature, and Tetsuya’s heart wasn’t spared in its wake.

“It is you who cannot fathom the depths of my desires, Tetsuya.” He said firmly. And he was right, because Kuroko’s mind was white noise, distorting the synapses responsible for comprehension.

All Kuroko mustered was, “I see.” Akashi asked for nothing more. The fact that Kuroko didn’t move, didn't run away served for an answer they both knew. Had both known when they first began this game of cat and mouse. They sat like that for a while, not breaking eye contact, and that was when Kuroko noticed.

“Akashi-kun, does your eye hurt?” The redhead blinked, once, twice, and within that second his mind fetched and analyzed every possible time frame during the length of their conversation where he had unconsciously covered his left eye. He’d found none. His hand dropped.

“No, I am fine.” And because Akashi’s voice was rigid with certainty, Kuroko chose to believe him. “Let us go, then. We cannot keep Mother waiting much longer.”

“Yes, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko obeyed, standing up and going for the door.

“Tetsuya.” Kuroko obeyed once more, stopping in his tracks. “You can try and delay the inevitable for as long as you wish, but one day you will come to me. You will accept me.”

Kuroko didn’t doubt that, wanting to say that his treacherous heart had already accepted Akashi a long time ago, but a voice pulled him back.

Not yet.

“You will not leave me, Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice was flat, stating facts, not pleas. No – those pleas, those words, they came from another voice that had begun haunting him only a few days before.

_“You wouldn’t leave me just yet, would you?”_

 

….

 

It had been almost two years now, yet that day was as fresh as ever in his mind. Perhaps because it was memorable in the same way the legend of the opening of Pandora’s Box was unforgettable, because on that day the fate of humanity had been sealed. And just like Pandora’s accursed day, _that_ day had sealed his own fate. On _that_ day, slumbering deep within Akashi Seijūrō, _it_ woke. The other one.

Seijūrō was a methodical person. His words, actions, _re_ actions were all planned and perfected in endless simulations of parallel realities. There was no situation he didn’t consider, nothing that escaped his eye, and so he acted not on his desires, but only on guaranteed victories.

But that day, his mind, his own consciousness, did what was nothing short of fiction.

It spoke to him. Told him _it_ had learnt a secret, and so it was time—time for the other him to come out.

He resisted, but it pulsed, it throbbed, it clawed at him, shredded him, then rebuilt him into something that was him, but not _him_. Because, for the first time, Akashi opened his mouth on impulse, and he said, _“Tell me, Tetsuya.”_ And it would have been a temporary slip up, a loss of rationale, a state of delirium. He could have found blame in everything if only he hadn’t continued, _“If I’d returned your sentiments, would you have stayed?”_

But _it_ said Tetsuya was to blame, truly. Tetsuya, who walked in with his exemplary stoic face, but his eyes burning in defiance. Tetsuya, who set the club resignation form on the table. Tetsuya, who did not submit. Not once. But Seijūrō did not care for sycophants, just like he did not care for renegades. And Tetsuya was neither, he told himself, the _other self_ , because what they had was camaraderie. It was better, it was friendship—

Tetsuya, your _friend_ Tetsuya, was a doll. A beautiful doll. Showing no fear, no subservience, he was a doll carved from the tears of Hellenistic tragedians. A puppet with no strings—how can that be, when Seijūrō was the grand ventriloquist? You— _he_ controlled everything and everyone. They were all his pawns to use, to discard, and yet there was a piece on his board that had no color. It moved with no form, no pattern, no move identical to the one before. No title, no class, no ranking, no legion to lead and no king to serve, but only a name: Kuroko Tetsuya. Tetsuya. _Tetsuya. Tetsuya._

And so on that fated day, Tetsuya came in like a doll, the embodiment of brave Stoicism. Seijūrō, you— _he_ wanted to break this doll. No wait, not break, because he was no savage. He wanted to only tear the mask off, which held the essence of this Hellenistic doll, and watch it all pour out. _He_ wanted to be the cause for such a miraculous phenomenon, and so when Tetsuya walked in, he seized the opportunity.

He woke.

And it was truly marvelous, to see that mask finally shatter. To see that face—Tetsuya’s true face, twisted in shock, pain, sadness, despair. Oh, how Pandora would cry. But it wasn’t enough, Seijūrō realized. He wanted to see more, so much more. Every emotion from Pandora’s Box was meant to be painted on that doll-like face, and it would be only _he_ , only Seijūrō, only you who would paint it. Because Tetsuya had been yours to break, and now yours to fix, you— _he_ decreed it the moment the doll walked out. Out of his grasp.

Then came the silence. Seijūrō was alone again, in the student council room, and in his mind. _It_ had gone quiet, it only came alive for Tetsuya after all, it would say.

Seijūrō was a being separate from it, his thoughts, his logic, all different from the other one.

And yet, for the rest of the day, Seijūrō—the real Seijūrō stayed working in the council room. And for the rest of the day, every so often, he would glance towards the door Tetsuya walked out of.

And every time, something burned.

It was his eye, Seijūrō would learn later, that was burning—but that was not right, because so was his chest.

 

….

 

“You boys took your time coming here.” Shiori greeted with a sling of mirth, preparing to comment on the faint blush on Kuroko’s cheeks, intending to make it darker. But then her eyes took in his appearance, his slim form packed nicely in that dark gray yukata, and she exclaimed, “Oh my! It suits you perfectly! Sei-kun has once again shown that he has impeccable taste.”

Kuroko smiled warmly, “Thank you, _haha-ue_.”

“I’m so glad I managed to find my camera. Come, you two.” She waved them over, making them stand in one corner as she set the timer on her camera before placing it on a stool. She walked over to the boys, standing in between them. “How nice, taking a picture with my two handsome boys! We shall do this more often.” She proclaimed heartily, ignoring the snort of derision from her son.

She looped an arm around each of theirs, yanking them both closer as Kuroko laughed lightly when he nearly stumbled into her.

Akashi politely smiled at the camera while saying, “Please do not crush my arm, Mother,” who only huffed in reply.

Kuroko sucked in a breath, saw for the first time a genuine mother and son, two people taking off the mantle of illusionary royalty to come together as a family for this one moment, and perhaps just this was enough for them. For two people who probably lived worlds apart within the same house, there was no need for profound revelations or epiphanies about wasted time and missed occasions, that simple instances like this revealed more than a thousand pages from a family memoir, because a single picture could sometimes describe what words could not. And to think a stranger like Kuroko was allowed to intrude on this essential moment, he felt like he had become part of something special.

Shiori tugged his arm closer, and the smile drew naturally on Kuroko’s face as the shutter closed to capture it.

 

“Ah, this looks perfect!” Shiori announced later on, smiling proudly at the screen. “Oh, Tetsuya-kun, we must take as many as possible at the festival!” The whole room seemed to brighten with her ecstatic grin, and Kuroko couldn’t help but smile his agreement. There was no doubt she had people falling left and right just to be rewarded with such a wonderfully pleased look from her, when it made Kuroko almost feel like he was in the clouds.

“It’s a shame Akashi-kun won’t be able to make it.” Kuroko mentioned, immediately regretting his carelessness when Shiori’s smile fell into darker tones, invoking the ghost lurking inside his breath to grip his lungs, his words tighter. As if it’s warning him to watch what he said.

“Impossible,” Shiori replied, firm with authority, “Sei-kun will be dining with some of our most valued clients as the future successor, after all.”

“Like I said,” Akashi cut in, his inexorable composure pleasant to Kuroko’s ears, while he’s drowning in his own worries stacking one misstep on top of another, “I’m happy to reschedule if Tetsuya wants me here on that day.” Akashi graced Kuroko with an eager curl of his lips, expecting a reply in the affirmative.

Shiori’s gaped at his words, eyes flitting back and forth between the two boys, finally stopping on Akashi with a fierce glare. “Tetsuya-kun,” her sweet voice betrayed none of the ire marring her face, “You may go back and change now. I need to talk to my son for a bit.” Kuroko couldn’t do anything but nod, casting a worried glance at Akashi as he slipped out the door. It was only when he was outside did he realize it.

He couldn’t tell when Shiori lied and when she was being honest.

 

….

“Seijūrō.” Shiori’s voice tore through the silence Kuroko left behind.

“Yes, Mother.” Akashi replied nonchalantly, ignoring the impending storm in his mother’s eyes. Shiori felt like she was being mocked.

“Surely you must be joking about rescheduling it.” She said, warning clear in her tone and her frigid expression.

Akashi blinked. “I’m not capable of making jokes, I’m afraid,” he stated, only succeeding in agitating Shiori more.

“It seems being with Tetsuya-kun has affected you worse than I’d imagined.” When she spoke, her voice was ice, “Do not forget your place, Seijūrō. You are heir to our empire.”

Akashi watched the snake finally shed her skin, witnessed that snow white façade being peeled back by black distortion that had so often haunted his childhood dreams. The paragon of piety was molting, and several thoughts hit Akashi all at once. He remembered half an hour ago, remembered Kuroko lying under him, delectable in his yukata, and decided he’d found perfection in mussed azure and pale skin. And when perfection looked back at Akashi, it was like looking into a mirror reflecting his own hunger, to consume, to devour—

But then they’d stopped, and as he saw his mother briefly cast off what had long decayed years ago, Akashi discovered the final piece to this subito puzzle.

He marched off to the door Kuroko had gone out of, an evident show of brushing off whatever his mother had just spouted, only pausing once at the door to remind her, “I don’t intend to neglect my position, Mother, I just hope you haven’t forgotten yours.” And when she looked absolutely venomous, eyes flashing serpentine, he threw her words back at her, “Or can you convince me that you are not _affected_ by the fact that Tetsuya will never be happier than when is with me, and not you?”

 

….

 

Kuroko roamed the main hallway, hoping Shiori hadn’t done anything rash as he recalled the words that had been haunting him since what happened in Akashi’s room. He didn’t think she would do anything drastic to her own son, and thankfully Akashi had fixed his appearance before they reached her room, keeping her suspicion at bay. Still, the nagging anxiety remained, and he had half a mind to turn back to go see Akashi.

Just then someone bumped into his back. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” cried a female voice.

He turned around, “No, I apologize for standing in the way.” He paused before adding, “Suzume-san.”

“Kuroko-kun! Oh my, you look so handsome.” The maid fawned over him, reminding him of Kise again.

He smiled politely, “Thank you, Suzume-san.”

Suzume paused, staring at him for a bit before she said, “No, we should be thanking you, Kuroko-kun.” Her ebullient features toned down to fondness as she continued, “You’re the only guest Shiori-sama has ever allowed in her personal quarters. Even family—save for the young master—aren’t permitted to enter. And she hardly comes out of her room unless it’s necessary.” Kuroko’s eyes widened slightly, not expecting a social butterfly like her to act reclusive. “But she’s been going out a lot lately; all thanks to you I’m sure.”

She threw him a wide smile.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen her this happy, Kuroko-kun. So really, thank you so much. All of us can tell you mean a lot to her.” Her words echoed honest, heartfelt gratitude, and Kuroko felt a wonderful pang in his chest as Shiori invaded his mind—she was smiling; she was laughing; she was tugging him closer for a picture strangers shouldn’t be a part of. But he was never a stranger to Shiori, she’d never treated him like one, always an open book in front of him, one with carefully torn out pages that he was too polite to ask for, but every meeting had him learning something new.

He hoped that someday she would let him put the whole book together.

And maybe then the cautionary ghost would loosen its grip around his neck.

 

….

 

It was different seeing Shiori like this, her normally pinned up hair now cascading down in scarlet tributaries, making her look all the more younger. It reminded Kuroko that perfection was not a constant state of lavish appearances, that simplicity was at times more awe-inspiring. He had grown so used to her aristocratic image of beauty, that her casual attire now was a refreshing change, only accentuated by their new setting.

The place was quite the cozy restaurant, hidden in the quaint woods of Tokyo. Classical music and light chatter filled the air, which was thankfully not too stuffy with haughty voices and posh footsteps. _The Rodier_ seemed to be one more potential place for Kuroko to hide away in, he decided. Despite its classy ambience—the rich mahogany furnishing, the courteous waiters, the unobtrusive foliage, and the lingering smell of freshly-brewed coffee—it didn’t appear to ostensibly favor the rich. There were no weird, foreign names on the menu that would threaten to put a dent in his pocket, and no grand red carpet reception like he’d always seen on TV.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, I’m sure you can tell why.” Shiori intoned as she poked her parfait. The sausages in his own plate lay uneaten as he marveled at the stylish décor of this place.

“Yes, it’s nice and quiet here.” Kuroko offered, faintly smiling his agreement. He glanced towards the grand piano at the end of the hall, where a man in black sat and swayed with dancing fingers, much like the music that rose from the keys.

“It’s Schubert,” Shiori identified for him, “Are you much into orchestra, Tetsuya-kun?”

He rolled the unfamiliar name in his mind’s voice, shaking his head. “Never had the opportunity to, but,” his eyes flitted towards the piano again before he added, “I do like this.”

Kuroko noticed a fond hitch in Shiori’s lips. “It’s my favorite; it was one of the first songs I taught Sei-kun on the violin.”

He pictured Akashi’s room, the violin resting elegantly under Shiori’s portrait, and wondered if the redhead ever liked to play this song to the image of his mother sitting in vibrant hues. “Akashi-kun is very talented. I’d like to hear him play some day.”

Shiori laughed lightly, and for a second Kuroko thought he saw the lilies by their window swerve in her direction. “That boy likes to play in his own company.” Akashi seemed to prefer enjoying a lot of things by himself, Kuroko pondered, feeling a pang of loneliness that made him want to call up the boy and ask him if he was free the next weekend. “But indeed, he is quite talented. I wouldn’t expect anything less from my son,” Shiori sang a proud mother’s praise, but the elation in her voice dulled considerably with her next words, “Too much of it, however, makes you want to _explore_. Soon you end up being led astray by your own interests.” She flicked her hand, as if trying to brush away the very thought of it.

“You see, Tetsuya-kun, excellence in extracurricular activities is of course a matter of pride to the family,” she leaned in, like a false secret would come flying from her mouth, “But to take leave from his schooling just so he could play in some poorly organized excuse for a tournament—this is certainly the first time he’s ever done something like that.”

Kuroko blinked in response. “I wouldn’t call it poorly organized. Players from all over Japan are coming over to take part in it. It is as legitimate as any,” he informed Shiori, who only frowned at him.

“I wonder,” she gave a skeptical reply. “Still, I would much rather send him back to Kyoto than let him indulge this sudden whim of his.” She said slowly, gauging Kuroko’s response.

He looked at her straight in the eye as he said, “I don’t think you are cruel enough to keep your son away from the one thing he loves.”

She raised her eyebrow at that. “Really? It is a fact that my son has developed rather whimsical tendencies, all of which seem to be stemming from you, Tetsuya-kun. By the way, how have you two been doing?” she asked sugary sweet.

“I…” He offered a confuse frown, “I don’t understand.”

“I see there has been little progress. Not that I mind, all the more opportunity to have you by my side.” She talked like a lottery winner about to claim her prize.

“You don’t have to use such methods to keep me around.” Although Kuroko thought it best to keep quiet about him being drawn to her like a magnet, he was sure that Shiori was already aware.

“Well then, Tetsuya-kun,” she spoke eagerly, “Even if your feelings end up being returned…”

Kuroko hadn’t known then that the next words to escape her lips would haunt him afterwards for a long, long time.

_“You wouldn’t leave me just yet, would you?”_

 

With the air Akashi Seijūrō exuded, one would liken him to a prince. And they wouldn’t be wrong. Ever since they’ve met, Kuroko saw him as prince to a throne of skulls and a kingdom of ghosts. His actions lacked the vigor of youth, only made of lifeless calculations for the next best move. There was no joy in expectations, no triumph in victories. There was nothing to live or die for.

It was only on the court did he drop his crown and play like he wanted to _live_. It became so visible to Kuroko after last year’s Winter Cup. They’d shared the tension, the despair, the hope, the tears, and the smiles, like sharp tugs on a string connecting their hearts during the game. It ignited something within Kuroko. Old, buried feelings leaped back to life like a spring in a desert of regrets and resentments. And Kuroko drank from it, indulged in it like a dying wanderer, and was left with wanting more. More. _More._

Despite everything that had been done, despite the Akashi that was not Akashi, he loved him all the same—no, not the _same_ when it just kept _growing_. Kuroko thought it wouldn’t stop until his heart burst, until his lungs collapsed, until the only thing that poured out of his lips was a name, and a wish.

He wanted to be connected again with Akashi, only this time they wouldn’t separate after the final buzzer.

 

Kuroko cared for Shiori, and she had never asked too much from him before, but he wouldn’t let her ruin it for either of them.

 

So he took a deep breath, allowing the smell of freshly-brewed coffee to fill his senses, and gave his promise.

“Yes, I understand,” he stabbed his knife and fork into the sausage, “ _Haha-ue_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the last part is a flashback, sorry if I wasn't clear. 
> 
> writing Akashi's pov was my most fav part out of this entire fic and I hope to use that sort of writing style again some day. the 'other' Akashi isn't even bokushi/oreshi, it's more of a nexus of his primal desires (including his desire for absolute control, which is why it gets affected by Kuroko so much cuz he's a defiant lil' shit) so yeah sorry for the ooc i guess
> 
> I feel like the romance is becoming increasingly cheesy as I unconsciously try to offset the weirdness of this fic OOOOPS
> 
> i just noticed how each chapter seems to cover one separate arc and it makes me wish i could have sequenced it better and evened out the length for each 'arc' but this was originally a oneshot so it's hard to change most things now haha /cREs
> 
> until next time! (￣▽￣)ノ


	5. Trepidation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops it's already been 5 days and here I was promising to update twice a week haha /sweats nervously
> 
> sorry for the weird dialogue in some places i just needed it to match the entire WTF?! mood this fic's been thriving on
> 
> scroll down to the end notes to see some insight on kuroko's characterization if you're interested

 

 

The tournament had finally started, and soon Kuroko found himself dropping by the Akashi manor whenever possible with stories of epic victories. Which was almost every other day or two. Nobody seemed to mind, though. The servants of the household were happy to have found someone to spoil, as the young master himself wasn’t very indulgent. Shiori seemed to grow happier with each visit. He had yet to meet Akashi’s father, something Kuroko could not be any more grateful for.

As for Akashi himself, Kuroko hardly ever saw him, despite him living in the very mansion. Being next in line didn’t seem to ensure much free time for Akashi. It left Kuroko somewhat disheartened, whenever a day went by when he didn’t get to see a glimpse of those hypnotic red eyes. Adding to the fact that the two had completely different training schedules, practice matches, real matches, didn’t really count when all the focus was on the ball, as it should be.

Meanwhile Shiori proved herself to be charming company, to the point where Kuroko himself had started to ask if he could come over again. And again and again, and their meetings went on. He couldn’t help his attraction to her, perhaps because he saw in Shiori a spiritual mentor, but he also saw a friend who celebrated his team achievements along with every news of victory. He was in love with her eccentric nature, where at times she was a contemporary Solomon, there were also times when she was completely willful, delightfully illogical (if that was even possible), and it only stimulated his brain with anticipation about what she would say next.

Every meeting was a brand new experience.

The only thing that was constant was this insidious sense of trepidation, deep and dark and _festering._

It first crept up on him when Shiori once saw him out of her room, walking down the hallway with him as they chatted about things he couldn’t remember. It had started as a light cough, interrupting her speech every so often.

Kuroko stopped walking, giving Shiori a concerned look. “I’ll get you some water.”

“I’m fine!” her outburst shocked both of them, and it might just be the first time Shiori raised her voice. Before Kuroko could say anything, she suddenly doubled over, hacking and wheezing.

“ _Shiori-sama!_ ” Kuroko was shoved aside, and then all he could remember was how violently her body jolted with each effort to breathe, as if someone kept sending bolts of electricity to her spine.

“It’s starting again.” He had heard one of the maids whisper after Shiori was helped back to her room. He didn’t know why he stuck around, but there was an urgency growing within him that he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you think she might relapse?” The worry in their voices, the implications in their words, they were enough to make him turn and leave.

As he all but ran back home, he felt glad that he didn’t have to see Akashi’s reaction.

 

“Have you read Haruki Murakami’s _Kafka on the Shore_?” Shiori asked some days later. She pretended like nothing ever happened, and Kuroko was too afraid to protest.

Afraid of what? He didn’t want to know.

No, it was rather that he didn’t want to acknowledge it, because somewhere in his mind the cogs had already started turning.

“I’ve heard of it.” _Kafka on the Shore_ was a surreal tale about the odyssey of a boy named Kafka Tamura, who ran away from home to avoid a curse, and a parallel story about an old man, Nakata, whose wartime-affliction had left him out of touch with reality.

“During Kafka’s journey he meets a beautiful librarian, Saeki-san. She had all but one purpose in the story: to teach Kafka about what life truly entails. One quote sticks out in particular. Tetsuya-kun, if you ever decide to read it, please keep in mind this single line from the book.”

She looked at Kuroko with the eyes of a mourning sage.

“ _While they’re still alive, people can become ghosts._ ”

An image of red flashed into his mind. He couldn’t tell if it was the son or the mother. _Perhaps_ , Kuroko thought, meeting her somber gaze, _it was both_.

“I would like to know more, _haha-ue_.”

She smiled. “Then come closer, my child.”

She talked about Kafka, about talking cats, about a Hegel-quoting prostitute, and about Schubert. She talked about life and death, about fate, and about the inevitability of things. All the while, Kuroko listened intently, perhaps hoping for a happy ending. But like a Greek tragedy, there came no closure. Just a lingering sense of sobriety that helped no one.

If this were a story with Kuroko as the hero, perhaps this was where he would come to terms with reality, Shiori being the worldly sage giving him advice along the way. He would peacefully accept things as they were, and move on to greater things, like the hero he was.

But all Kuroko felt was the depth of emptiness his heart was being submerged in.

And as he kept sinking, deeper and deeper, as the imaginary grip around his throat tightened, he wondered if this was what it felt like to become a ghost.

 

….

The impermanence of time, something he’d read upon in countless number of books. Every profound narrative has at least once gleamed upon time’s ceaseless odyssey—suddenly Kuroko couldn’t ignore it anymore. It wasn’t about his growing anticipation for the tournament finals that was right around the corner now. In fact, that was the last thing on his mind right now.

How could it not be, when the only thing occupying his thoughts was the incident from before, and that talk about their Japanese Kafka. Looking back on all the times they’ve met, it had always been there. A sense of foreboding that crawled on clammy hands, twisting his intestines into the visceral dread that sometimes stalked Kuroko into his dreams.

Shiori was what a poet would call hauntingly beautiful. There was something ephemeral in her radiance that threatened to die out. Very soon. There were times when, if the sun’s rays danced on her just right, wearing one of her whiter kimonos she would become translucent. The edges of her transient silhouette would smudge into the bright background, and it was times like these when Kuroko would feel as if he were talking to someone far, far away. Someone disconnected from this realm, and the only thing keeping them here was a tattered rope that grew shorter and shorter as the two continued meeting.

But then she’d give him a wonderful smile, and it would all be forgotten. Once more driven into the dark corners of Kuroko’s mind where it lay rotting, _rotting_ his bliss away.

He had known from the start. Or at least a part of him did. The majority of Kuroko still lived in denial, because that was the only way to stop the rot.

But sometimes he’d notice the way Shiori would keep looking at him, looking through him and into the sickening rot etched into his mind. And he just knew.

He knew Shiori had found out that he was close to the truth.

 

….

It was two days before their match with Jabberwock when Akashi spoke with him. It was on his mother’s instructions, he’d explained, since she hadn’t been able to meet with Kuroko lately. Kuroko had no time to visit Shiori at all this week while he was perfecting his new technique, on nights that were way too warm, way too dark. Shiori could have waited but apparently this was something Kuroko had needed to hear.

“It’s her lungs, they’re growing weak.” Akashi informed a stunned Kuroko, who half thought the taller boy was reading from the newspaper. “It’s a highly rare disease, there’s no known treatment for it.”

Akashi gave him a minute’s silence, and Kuroko used the reprieve to pray to whatever god that existed to make Akashi take back his words, or to make Kuroko wake up in his bed, so he could accept it to be the nightmare it truly was. Just a nightmare.

Right?

But it wasn’t, as Akashi heartlessly continued, “I trust you won’t let this news affect your performance in the upcoming match.”

Akashi seemed to have forgotten that Kuroko wasn’t a robot, unlike his captain who droned on like this was some school announcement, but there was none of the usual snark left in Kuroko. He felt transparent, like there was nothing inside him, felt the summer breeze swaying through the fractured sieve Kuroko surmised was his body.

“Perhaps you should cease your rendezvous with her, for your sake.” He gave Kuroko a meaningful look, seeing right through whatever bits and pieces were left of the blue-haired boy.

“Is that also part of what your mother instructed you to tell me,” Kuroko gritted out, sharp as a dagger that only cut his own skin.

“No,” Akashi admitted, walking out of the training room, “But I suppose you wouldn’t listen to me, would you?” Kuroko suddenly wished Akashi was speaking in his robotic monotone again, because the fragile softness in his voice left Kuroko kneeling against his exercise bike, left him with the floor ripped from his feet.

_“She’s dying.”_

 

The moment he reached home, he went into the kitchen, where his own mother would be waiting, happily cooking a warm meal for him.

And of course, it was his favorite tonight.

He went up behind her and grasped her arms, ignoring her startled yelp as he leaned his head against her shoulder.

“Tecchan! What’s wrong?”

He roughly shook his head against her shoulder blade, trying to indicate that no, nothing was wrong.

His fingers trembled as they clutched onto her sleeves, not caring if they got wrinkled.

Absolutely nothing was wrong.

That was what he kept repeating like a mantra as he shivered in the meaningless comfort of his bed, but Akashi’s words were the only thing echoing in his mind. Torturing him with the guilt he did not deserve, because—

_“She’s dying.”_

Because Kuroko had almost replied with, “I know.”

….

 

“This is _sakurayu_ , I’ve added some honey to it so it’s more suited to your taste,” an amused voice accompanied the hands that gently set a pure white cup on the table.

He thanked her, blue eyes falling into the pristine water, so clear it blended into the interior of the cup, and he found a single cherry blossom floating amidst the tea.

“It looks very pretty,” he mentioned.

Kuroko forgot that he was talking about the tea when she smiled. “Sei-kun would be happy to hear that.”

He looked up, “Akashi-kun prepared it?”

“Yes, also I lied about the honey,” there was a twinkle in her eye, “Sei-kun was the one who suggested it.”

 Her words awakened a warmth in him, and he didn’t realize he was smiling until she giggled.

“Oh, sweet Tetsuya, no wonder Sei-kun adores you so.”

The warmth spread to his cheeks. “Hardly.”

“And that is why I adore you as well. You, who are so painfully oblivious to your own charm.”

Kuroko found it unfair how both mother and son had the ability to render him speechless by just a simple curl of their lips.

He couldn’t help return it with his own, shy and small. “Thank you for your kind words, _haha-ue_.”

The cup felt warm in his hands as he brought it closer until the sweet aroma of honey wafted into the air. He glanced at Shiori, noticing the way her fingers trembled a bit, the quiet sigh that followed as she put her tea back down, and he found himself mimicking her actions. He couldn’t bear to drink it either. Not when he knew that the only thing he was able taste in his mouth right now were empty words he couldn’t say.

“My apologies for never making it to the match,” she started, a tad hesitant, a tad not Shiori. Then again, Kuroko hadn’t much left of himself either lately, much like a dandelion listlessly floating in the wind. “And there are probably several more things that I should apologize for.” Her lips tightened, for once looking completely lost, like she didn’t know what to say, or whether she _should_ say anything. He didn’t want to look at her anymore, not this unconfident stranger whose quivering gaze was planting a seed of fear inside his stomach.

He nearly asked Shiori if he could go home.

He didn’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore, so he looked down. Away from those eyes that didn’t belong to the confident and charming Shiori he knew. But he was only greeted with a wet reflection, a drenched apparition of sickly pale and sunken eyes.

 

The cherry blossom in his tea flinched. He touched his cheek to find a single wet trail.

His companion stared at him in surprise before her face clenched into a painful smile that made an unknown guilt lap at Kuroko’s heart.

“I’ve been cruel to you, haven’t I? Forcing you to keep a dying woman company.” She spoke like she was seeking remorse for a crime she did not commit.

“You’ve never forced me, _haha-ue_.” It was true, despite her intentions, which he couldn’t make heads or tails of, he sought her company on his own accord. He knew that there was a reason why he stuck around, despite the fear, despite the resentment he didn’t want to feel. He had read somewhere before that love was unconditional, but a part of him would never accept it. It was that very part that reached deep into him, trying to incite flight, because there was no more fight left in Kuroko. All he wanted to do was run away.

She laughed sweetly. “It is because you say such things that I cannot help but take advantage of your kindness, my child. However, I cannot claim to feel any regret, so please, let this selfish human stay enamored with you for a little longer.”

Her words once again left him spellbound, but there was this naked honesty to them that truly tugged at him.

“Just a little while more, Tetsuya-kun, and I’ll set you free.”

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t want to be set free, that he could stay for much, much longer than ‘just a little while’ but his throat was swollen with unspoken words of affection and denial and pain and regret, because time was a cruel mistress and he felt useless before her. He felt useless before Shiori too, for he couldn’t force himself out of the chains that tied him down to the void of his negativity, that he couldn’t help but blame Shiori for bewitching him in the first place. He told himself that he had no regrets, that Shiori was a beautiful tragedy he had forgiven long ago, and that was all that mattered.

But it still felt like a lie.

Her face suddenly crumbled into a heartbreaking expression so full of longing that it made Kuroko realize that this was the face she had been hiding all along. All the times they have talked, all the smiles they shared, it all dissolved into sweet acid and seeped through his flesh and bones, and for once, the lies hurt more than the truth.

“Tetsuya-kun,” her voice was heavy, as though burdened with something – something both of them had known from the start, and yet the weight only grew with time – and she spoke the words they had both been avoiding like poison.

_Please don’t say it._ Kuroko wanted to beg her, but it was too late.

It had been too late from the very beginning.

 “I’m sorry.”

The illusion they had woven together was starting to become frayed as the threads in his heart slowly decayed one by one, and for the first time in his life, Kuroko wished he had been something more, something greater than a human being.

Perhaps then he could stitch their lie back to its rightful perfection again.

Yet they were both indeed only human, pitiful in their lovelorn phantasm, which was being drenched under the deluge of reality.

This time he felt every tear that escaped his eye, and with it a fragment of their falsified truth.

The cherry blossom in his tea lay blissfully afloat for the rest of the day.

….

 

He went down the hallway, having almost perfectly memorized the layout of the house now. He was about to head to the entrance when he bumped into Akashi, who smelled of ink and parchment.

He didn’t get the time to greet the taller boy as he was gently pulled in the other direction, towards the bedroom. Once inside, Akashi slid the door shut and turned towards his captive.

“Tetsuya, why do you cry? For a woman you have no relation to?” Had it been someone else, Kuroko would have thought he was being mocked, but this was Akashi. The very same Akashi he trusted more than himself, the one who made him forget this world and everything that was wrong with it. He was glad that Akashi was acting normal, at least.

“Blood is no requirement to forge relations, Akashi-kun.” He reminded Akashi, but he had to wonder if his words have ever truly reached him.

“A relation that will perish sooner than most,” Akashi argued as though he wasn’t talking about his own mother.

Kuroko gave a slow nod. “It cannot be helped. I am only a human who got enamored.” Repeating her words left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, Kuroko learned.

“Nevertheless, I do not like seeing you cry, Tetsuya.” Akashi cupped Kuroko’s cheeks and rubbed at the dry trails.

“That is how the heart gets to us, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko explained, discovering that he hated putting a name to this feeling. How could this be called love when all that was left of him was a fallen scarecrow, once kept alive by Shiori’s magic, that now slowly moldered back into hay.

“What about us then? Do we have a relation, Tetsuya?”

His face grew warm under Akashi’s touch but he didn’t dare pull away. “I would like to think so.”

“Then can I expect you to be enamored with me as well?”

Kuroko’s throat dried up faster than a drop of water falling into desert sand. “Why do you always ask questions you already know the answer to?” he spoke out of breath, showing how emotionally drained Kuroko had been after his talk with Shiori.

Akashi’s response came just as weak. “Do I?” he asked with a smile that didn’t match his tone.

“I’ll be heading back to Kyoto on Sunday,” Akashi announced. The anxiety rammed against Kuroko’s back, and before he knew it he was already reaching out towards Akashi’s yukata. Black again this time, he noticed. Kuroko would have told Akashi that the color suited him well but right now Kuroko could only see funeral garbs.

“You’re already leaving?” Kuroko asked with a nervous raise in his pitch; his question came out like a whine, earning an amused look from the redhead.

“I was hoping you’d give me a response before I leave. It will become troublesome for me to drop by here in the future since I’ll be saddled with student council duties the moment I get back.”

Kuroko clutched at Akashi’s sleeve. “Do you really have to go so soon?” he murmured, hating the way he sounded so needy. But Akashi was red hot fire burning steadily in the dreary cold that fell in the wake of Shiori’s revelation. He resembled his mother so much but now Kuroko realized that they were so fundamentally different, because he’d never found comfort in anyone else aside from Akashi.

Akashi's lips curled playfully. "You say such adorable things, Tetsuya, yet you withhold what I need to hear the most."

His words dripped liquid sugar, coaxing Kuroko out of his defenses.

"Tetsuya, I won't make you promise your future to me." Akashi declared, sober and solemn, "Even so, won't you accept me?"

Kuroko felt icy hands clamp down on him again, but their grip was weakening, melting away with Akashi's voice. Kuroko had waited so long, had kept Akashi waiting so long. It all felt like a waste now. He truly cared for Shiori. He wanted to keep her happy. But he had been lying to himself and her, when what he felt for Akashi burned stronger than any half-hearted promise.

Akashi was going away, and he'd already lost Shiori. There was no way he could keep things hanging for a moment longer. His will broke, and Shiori faded out of his mind. He felt no guilt for what he was about to do next.

He tugged at Akashi's collar, bringing him down to meet his lips.

He instantly wished he hadn't waited so long.

If Kuroko ever toiled through a thousand romance novels, he still wouldn't have found the perfect scene, the perfect words that described this. Mainly because it was far from perfect, hardly what one would call a kiss. His lips were sealed shut, tight and nervous against Akashi's. The redhead didn't even move, as if he had turned into a statue, and it just made things more awkward, until Kuroko couldn't take it anymore, breaking away from the kiss with a heaving sigh.

Embarrassment colored his cheeks rosy when Kuroko realized what he'd just done. Was kissing supposed to make you feel so shy, like you wanted the ground to swallow you up?

He braved a tentative glance at Akashi, who looked positively delighted, like a cat that had finally caught its fish.

"Hmm?" Akashi lined out, deep in thought. Kuroko's eyes followed the way a pink tongue darted out, tracing his mouth, followed the mischievous slant of those lips as they parted, "Let's try that again, shall we?"

Akashi's hand cupped the back of Kuroko's head, tilting it slightly, and this time he was the one to catch the other's lips in something much fiercer. Kuroko had compared Akashi to a storm before, but he was still caught off-guard when the taller boy ripped his breath away. Kuroko struggled to breathe, gasping for air that was immediately sucked in by Akashi. He was starting to feel light-headed, mind wiped blank until it was completely filled with Akashi’s name, his touch, his lips, his breath.

Kuroko was swept by a whirlpool of sensations, of the fingers that felt cool on his neck, of the summer heat stuck between their bodies, of the hot air that billowed in their broken breaths, and of the wet press of open mouths. He knew he had a fairly weak body, but this was the first time his lungs felt so empty, so deprived of the oxygen he needed to keep himself from falling deep into the quagmire of Akashi’s fervor.

They separated the next moment, which came much too soon. Kuroko's harsh pants said otherwise, though. Despite his daze, it pleased him to see the light flush decorating Akashi's cheeks. Something about the way they were both affected by it lifted a weight off Kuroko's chest, and the first word his emptied mind came up with trilled the flutter of butterfly wings tickling his rib cage.

"Very good, Tetsuya." Akashi smiled and the flutters grew wild.

And it all fell silent again when Akashi stole his breath once more.

 

….

This was the first time Kuroko had spent the night over at some place other than Kagami’s. It was for a different set of reasons too, as evident by the crimson silk that began pooling around Kuroko’s waist when he sat up from a dreamless sleep. It took a moment for him to register his surroundings, that his room had not suddenly expanded in all directions, lined wall to wall by dark drapes of what he assumed was more silk. He tried to recall how he ended up in Akashi's bedroom, and if he had a prickly personality like Midorima's, he would have probably fled the room or at least found a far off corner where he could cower in denial.

But when he looked at the figure wrapped in dark red beside him, he could only smile. He wanted to mess up the tuft of hair poking out of the covers some more. He wanted to curl back into Akashi's cocoon, to feel his body again. It came as an assurance that Akashi was human, the warmth soothing his nerves, and the gentle heartbeat carrying over with his touch, because Kuroko felt like anything but.

He was cold now, and no matter how tightly he pressed into his own chest, he felt no response. Though that was mainly because his fingers were weak and trembling, touch so light that he couldn't feel them against his skin. He pushed off from the soft bed, letting cold feet meet colder wood.

He didn't get up, though. There was nowhere to go, especially not in the middle of the night. Kuroko really was stuck between a rock and a hard place now though, what with the certainty of Shiori finding out in the morning what had transpired between him and her son.

When did the thought of Shiori start to incite such worry within him? He had fallen for her so easily--it was hard not to, Kuroko was sure he was far from the first of the victims of her charm. Yet there was part of him that hated her, for keeping him from Akashi. The moment he met Akashi's lips he had realized he'd made a mistake. Nothing was worth missing out on what they had, what they might have together. He had kept lying to himself, but after today he couldn't forgive Shiori for chaining him down with a threat he knew she would never follow through.

Most of all, he couldn't forgive himself for hating Shiori, for _loving_ Shiori, because the guilt in him clambered over his thoughts like a preying insect.

Kuroko Tetsuya was a hypocrite to a fault. His love for Shiori stemmed from all the smiles Shiori had shown only to him, all the stories she shared only with him, all the sweet nuances in her demeanor she reserved only for him. As if it was only him who could make her happy this way. He was drunk on that falsehood, like some ambitious ruler who conquered no lands, only a reverent love. It was impure, selfish, more fragile than anything else. It survived on a fancy lampoon of give and take.

"Tetsuya." The whisper travelled on feather feet, settling against a harp of spine and ribs as it strummed a soothing tone within Kuroko. It sang of fire that burned hotter than Shiori's chains, reminding Kuroko that what he felt for Akashi was worlds apart from the love that was dying with Shiori.

Cold fingers hooked around his right hip, tugging him back into the warmth of silk sheets. He turned around, smiled, and crawled towards the redhead.

"Come here, Tetsuya." Akashi raised an arm and Kuroko rolled into the comfort of an embrace. The chill from before had disappeared, but Kuroko feared it would come back once Akashi left for Kyoto.

With a sudden twist of hips, he pushed Akashi onto his back. "Akashi-kun," he breathed, loving the way Akashi's eyes shone crimson clear even in the dark of night, hints of surprise and anticipation lining the corner of his eyes, the raise of his lips. Kuroko bit his own when he remembered how thoroughly they had assaulted his, had been assaulted by his.

The sight above him was enough for Akashi to grab the back of Kuroko's head and pull him down into something sweeter than dreams.

….

Perhaps it was lost in the darkness, or perhaps it was lost in hungry kisses and haphazard collisions of skin, but Kuroko missed the flash of gold that flickered like a dying candle through the night.

 

….

Sunlight streamed in fractures to dance upon Kuroko's features. The world remained quiet, no morning chirps, no chatter of voices and feet, deciding for Kuroko that it was still too early.

Which meant it was the perfect time to get up and sneak out, in hopes that by the time he made it to the station the train lines would be up and running.

The strong arm wrapped around his torso shelved those plans for him, however, as Akashi spoke into his ear, "You're not getting away, Tetsuya." When the blue-haired boy shivered at his low tenor, he made his approval known by burying his face in the crook of Kuroko's neck.

Kuroko squirmed in his hold, but it was his weakest sign of protest yet. “Akashi-kun, I need to go—”

"Stay." Akashi ordered. He nuzzled into Kuroko's neck, pulling their bodies closer together. "Just until I leave."

"Akashi-kun, people won't be pleased if I stay with you for so long. For no reason." He reminded the redhead, Shiori's name unspoken on the reef of his breath.

"I will make sure you do not interact with Mother in my presence." His tone left no room for argument, "Which is why you must stay with me all times."

"Akashi-kun is clingy." But Kuroko couldn't hide the light chuckle that escaped him. With the world sleeping behind them, Kuroko had allowed himself this moment of peace, as ephemeral as it may be.

"It is imperative that I remedy our enormous share of missed opportunities," Akashi reasoned, "Starting from now."

Kuroko scooted back a little, and Akashi took that as his victory, loosening his hold, but keeping his arm in place. They snuggled like lazy lovers in the break of winter, but Akashi found he could get used to this pace. "What do you have in mind?" Kuroko murmured, the returning wisps of sleep sinking all his words into the pillow.

"I shall be in charge of your meals during your stay here, Tetsuya. You may not have a well for a stomach like Atsushi, but I doubt you follow the healthiest of diets."

"What if I told you I wanted to eat seaweed?" Kuroko raised an innocent question.

"You do have the option to starve."

Kuroko hid traces of a smile underneath the bedsheet, letting the low rumble of Akashi's voice lull him back to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no they didn't have sex I'M SORRY FOR THE IMPLIED SEXAY TIEMS
> 
> wow look at this chapter just jumping between moods. i just didn't want to allow much opportunity for people to sympathize with Shiori haha
> 
> but jeez that came out of nowhere. such a disease of course doesn't exist and I was uncomfortably vague about it anyway but please just go along with it LOL ;-; i just decided to throw out the cards one by one to fuck with the pace of the fic because im shit at experiment styles obviously. /excuses
> 
> it's kind of hard to incorporate romance in a genre like this so I hope the akakuro scenes came out ok (⊙_◎)
> 
> **About Kuroko:**  
>  and we finally find out why kuroko's letting Shiori fuck with him so bad to the point where he outright ignores how psycho she is oops kuroko u poor thang you.  
> I just didn't want to portray him as jesus and build their relationship on anything other than the fact that he only sticks to her because she makes him feel special and needed. and he purposely deludes himself into thinking he puts the same amount of importance in her as much as she does in him  
> TOO BAD HE DOESN'T  
> he does love hangin with her when she's not being psycho, and he clearly does care for her, but he also knows that he's probably not gonna push her out of the way from an incoming car and risk death/getting himself injured. i just wanted to portray that in a nicer, more melodramatic way I guess? i just hope i did my job well urgh
> 
> if there are other things anyone needs an explanation for then feel free to ask. 
> 
> until next time! (＃⌒∇⌒＃)ゞ


	6. Atonement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna update this with a sorta lengthy one since I'm gonna be busy finishing 4 long ass one shots oH MY GOD ヽ༼, ͡X ͜ʖ ͡X,༽ﾉ this chapter what even is this chapter
> 
> there are like 10 million fics in my 'read for later' pile write now from all the akakuroweek mayhem I WANT TO READ ALL YOU GUYS' WORKS BUT I ALSO HAVE TO FINISH THESE WORKS OMGGGgfggsklewjp 0(:3　)～ =͟͟͞͞(’､3)_ヽ)＿

 

 

When Shiori saw Kuroko walking down the main hallway in one of Akashi's yukata, she kept mum. The frown on her face spoke volumes on how she viewed this arrangement, though. It didn't come as a surprise to Kuroko at all, yet the guilt still tugged at rusty hooks. He knew all it would take was another call to his parents to tell them he'd be coming back sooner than expected, and that would be enough to brighten her mood—because he still cared deeply for her, and it was hard to see her so unhappy. Especially when it was a decision he had made for himself.

Even so, he never tried to avoid her. It was Akashi playing the main role in keeping them apart, as he had promised. They spent most of their time in the reading room, Kuroko's favorite place. Nobody disturbed them until it was time for supper, taking meals in the comfort of Akashi's room. Akashi told him that he often cooked for himself when he had free time, a venture that, Kuroko surmised, upset a lot of servants.

When Kuroko first brought it up, Akashi had waved it off like dust. According to Akashi, dependence for such basic comforts could quickly become toxic, definitely impractical in a world where every man must fend for himself. Kuroko had to pause eating after hearing that. He knew it all too well, what Akashi was telling him. It was philosophy found only in isolation, making him wonder if that was how the other had spent most of his childhood.

"Don't you depend on your teammates?" Kuroko asked.

"That is indeed necessary to inculcate teamwork and promote sportsmanship. Similar scenarios hardly occur outside of the field of sports, however, hence I see no need for it." Akashi replied.

It was quite the professional response, but there was hardly anything professional about human relationships. They could be as simple as an atom under a microscope, but flip the lens and that same atom would become a complex cell with its own system of operations, built upon millions of meaningful connections between supportive units working together to exist, grow, evolve, _prosper_.

"Akashi-kun can rely on me," Kuroko said, his gaze never wavering from Akashi's own surprised one, "I am not your teammate anymore, but I still hope you will give me a chance."

Akashi tilted his head slightly, trying to measure Kuroko's words in his head. "Well, of course, Tetsuya," he smiled fondly, "We are much more than teammates, after all."

The season of spring had long bid farewell to them, but Akashi saw it bloom again in the elated lift of Kuroko’s cheeks.

 

….

Shiori's earlier mood seemed to have completely vanished when she approached Kuroko near the genkan. He had been planning on going back home the night before Akashi's departure, so he could see him off at the station tomorrow morning.

" _Haha-ue_ ," he greeted politely.

"Tetsuya-kun, I believe you are free tomorrow." She gave him her usual amicable smile. Shiori had always smiled around him, but now he couldn't tell when they were sincere. And when they were just traps, just waiting for Kuroko to fumble.

He nodded. "Yes, _haha-ue_."

"I shall be expecting you then." She disappeared back into the main hallway. So quickly that Kuroko would have presumed she was scared of the possibility of getting a rejection.

It didn’t surprise Kuroko that he couldn’t hear the characteristic melodious lilt that had always made him liken her voice to the song of a nightingale. When she spoke this time, Kuroko only felt the sweltering bray of molten lead in his ears.

 

….

 

It was next weekend when Akashi called him.

"I suppose you two are still meeting regularly." Akashi said.

"Every few days, yes. How did you know, Akashi-kun?" Kuroko asked, looking at his calendar. There were only a couple more days left in their vacation.

"She hasn't made a move yet, so it's safe to assume that you're keeping her satisfied."

Kuroko blinked, "I don't understand."

"You have no need to worry. Well, that was all I wanted to confirm. I will see you later then."

Kuroko straightened up in his bed. "Wait, Akashi-kun!" the blue-haired boy heard an inquisitive hum on the other side, "I..." Kuroko's voice fell flat, sudden doubt clouding his brain. He was worried that it might be childish that he wanted to talk to Akashi some more. He was sure that Akashi was busy with his own work at Rakuzan, and he was happy he got to finally talk to him. But everything suddenly felt less than enough, felt too little, after his phone screen lit up with Akashi's name. After he heard Akashi's voice so many days later.

Time without Akashi dragged on long and forever, and now that they were talking, Kuroko found that he was running short on it already.

"Tetsuya?"

"Oh, sorry, Akashi-kun. I was…” Kuroko bit his lip.

Silence greeted him from the other end. For a second, Kuroko thought Akashi had hung up on him.

Until that smooth voice waded in again. "Tetsuya," he could hear the smile in Akashi's tone, "Should I come visit you tomorrow?" Akashi proposed as though it was a regular thing.

Now it was Kuroko's turn to fall silent. "I thought Akashi-kun was busy with the student council." He replied seconds later.

"I've already taken care of most of the reports. Things will be quiet until the new term begins, so I have time on my hands."

"I don't want to trouble Akashi-kun." But really, all he wanted was to say _yes please come_.

"Not at all. This is not the first time I've gone back to stay at the main house over the weekend." Akashi had always managed to reassure Kuroko easily whenever he was conflicted, it was one of the first things Kuroko had come to like about Akashi.

So he answered with a small smile, "Well alright, if Akashi-kun is fine with it."

 

….

 

Akashi allowed himself a smile. "Good. See you then, Tetsuya." He slid his phone back into his pants and walked back to the door behind him, sliding it open. "My apologies, the call took a little longer than expected," he addressed the only other person in the room.

The captain of the chess club was a mousy little fellow, with small eyes and nose fixed in a perpetual glare. Or perhaps that was because of the game they had been playing before Akashi had excused himself. Akashi was close to adding another win to his track record, not that he kept count anyway. That was more of the captain's hobby, because apparently he had made it his life goal to defeat Akashi at chess at least once.

He huffed, not bothering to hide his impatience as he crossed his arms. "Just make your move." He sounded rather eager this time, confident even.

Akashi scanned the chessboard and noted the move the captain had made while he was out of the room. One more move and his white Queen would put Akashi in Check.

"Interesting how the Queen is such a versatile piece," Akashi remarked, the captain smirked at the board. "Which is why it is the most dangerous one as well, because if you depend on her too much," Akashi placed a black Knight diagonal to a white pawn, just one space away from the white King, "She will turn on you."

The captain gaped at the board. No doubt the ill-tempered boy had assumed Akashi would try to protect his King. But now his own white King was trapped, trapped by his own pieces. The Black Rook had a clear shot at him from one side, but if he moved forward then he'd be taken by the Knight. All he could move was a diagonal space to the bottom right, two of his pawns tailing his King, the black Bishop at the left edge of the board, blocking every other route for him and—

The white Queen blocked him off from his last diagonal escape.

"Checkmate." Akashi stepped back, appraising his handiwork. He nodded towards his stunned opponent and began to make his way out of the room. "Thank you for the game, I quite enjoyed it. You were very aggressive with your Queen this time. I found it interesting, to say the least."

Akashi walked down the empty school hallway, thinking back on how amusing it was to see the white Queen spearheading nearly every offensive maneuver. No matter, the result was still the same.

If the Queen decided to play aggressive, Akashi was still prepared to destroy her.

 

….

True to his promise, Akashi did come to visit him the next day. And the next week after as well. The household saw Akashi visiting almost every weekend even after school had reopened for them, much to Shiori's disapproval, as she so voiced during one of her talks with Kuroko.

"Sei-kun has been coming over quite often lately." She commented before sipping her tea.

"Yes, _haha-ue_." Kuroko nodded.

"He's never done this," she mused, "Neglecting his duties as heir."

Kuroko eyes widened slightly. "I wasn't aware." Akashi was absconding work in order to stay with him?

Shiori eyed Kuroko inquisitively, "... well I suppose 'neglect' isn't the most accurate word. He has only been reorganizing his training schedule, but I don't like him doing whatever he pleases." She set her cup down with a smack. "He is busy enough as it is, with his academic and extracurricular activities adding to his grooming as the company successor. I don't see why he has to make time he cannot afford to spend with Tetsuya-kun."

"I don't see why Akashi-kun has to go through training this early on. It's not like he'll be taking over right after he graduates." Kuroko countered with no malice in his voice, just troubled curiosity.

She shot him a keen look. "Tetsuya-kun, I hope you two haven't done anything you are not supposed to."

Kuroko hesitated, assessing the weight of his next words. " _Haha-ue_ ," he began somberly, "Things between your son and I... have changed."

The admission prompted a painful silence. For the first time Kuroko felt his frustration starting to spike. Out of anyone else, he wanted Shiori to be the one to accept him, to accept them.

She merely regarded him with prosaic coldness. "Oh? And you felt the need to tell me? What was it that you were expecting—my blessing?" She could sharpen a knife with the edge in her tone.

He nodded slowly, "I would appreciate that."

She sighed. "I must say, this has gone far beyond my expectations. I wasn't aware how deep your feelings for him were so I kept my nose out of it, thinking you would be too discouraged to act on them."

She sipped her tea. It was her favorite calming remedy.

"It pains me to tell you that I cannot let this go on, Tetsuya-kun," to her credit, she did sound genuinely apologetic, "Because Sei-kun has much bigger obligations than romancing a boy."

She set the cup down, the clink running sharp and definitive in Kuroko's ears. "Sei-kun is misbehaving because of this newfound... ‘change’ between you two," she quoted, "And I'm afraid to say that if he doesn't show diligence towards the family then he will be removed from it."

Kuroko's breath hitched. "You're... you're saying Akashi-kun might be disowned?"

Because of him?

"With all due respect, I don't think _haha-ue_ would do something so drastic." He pressed.

"I don't make the rules, Tetsuya-kun." She replied firmly.

"Even so, I don't think that it's right to do something like this, _haha-ue_. Aren't you all family?"  He tried to keep his cool but his voice wavered. Shiori heard it all too clear.

"A family that has kept strictly to centuries-old tradition, yet you expect us to bend it to your selfish whims. I am afraid the rest of the family won't humor you as much as I generally do." She admonished, but the tone of her voice betrayed her delight at how he visibly deflated.

"I'm sorry, _haha-ue_ , I wasn't trying to take things for granted. Still, I believe all tradition is capable of changing with the times." He stated.

But the damage was already inflicted on him, so she decided to end this here. "Tetsuya-kun, I must get ready to meet with an important guest after this. We shall convene early today. Perhaps you should take the time to act accordingly if you do keep Sei-kun's best interests in mind." She proceeded to call for a maid, and to Kuroko, she couldn’t have been clearer in her signaling the end of this conversation.

He couldn't get a word in after that.

 

….

This time Kuroko was the one who called.

"What a pleasant surprise, Tetsuya," Akashi greeted as he picked up the phone, "It is rare to have you calling me."

"Hello, Akashi-kun." The redhead immediately noticed something was wrong. Kuroko's greeting had come after quite the pause.

"What is it that you wish to discuss with me, Tetsuya?" Akashi led the conversation so Kuroko wouldn't have to hesitate.

It didn't work. "Akashi-kun, I..." Kuroko's voice fell again.

Akashi tried a gentler approach, "What's wrong, Tetsuya?"

"Akashi-kun," the words were hurried, the pitch was higher, "Um, I'm sorry, but—" there was a hitch in Kuroko's voice.

Akashi had long stopped looking at the shogi board. "What is it that is bothering you, Tetsuya? Should I be worried?"

There was a long interval of silence before Akashi heard anything.

"No," came Kuroko's reply.

It was a firm sound, no hint of tension that had filled the cracks in his voice earlier. Akashi chose to stay upright regardless, waiting.

"I can't do this," Kuroko mumbled, seemingly to himself because Akashi almost missed it in the static from the speaker. Before he could ask Kuroko about it, the boy continued, "I'm sorry, Akashi-kun. I realized it was nothing too important. I apologize for disturbing you."

It was an odd thing to hear. Akashi had never considered Kuroko a disturbance, but the other had already hung up before he could correct that misconception.

He should have gone back to his game, but Kuroko's words echoed in his head.

_I can't do this._

His eyes narrowed in thought, the cogwheels of his brain spinning fast, trying to pin-point the cause for such words. They stopped on the image of a certain woman, and Akashi decided that it was time to pay his mother a visit.

 

….

Kuroko clenched his phone, knowing how Shiori would react to his decision. He reckoned a part of her would see it coming, but that didn't mean she would accept it.

With Akashi there was no choice in the matter. He couldn't pick anything over the boy. He couldn't bring himself to say anything on the phone, either. But his hesitation was enough to cement his decision. No matter what, he couldn't give up on what he and Akashi shared, not when they had just started building their relationship.

He sighed into the tranquil of his room, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't even tell what he was meant to be lying in wait for.

 

….

Kuroko was reading one of the fables from _One Thousand and One Nights_ to Shiori when she asked him about Akashi once more.

“We’re doing fine.” He pursed his lips, already imagining Shiori’s response. He recognized his words carried a deadly weight, rooting him right in the eye of the growing storm.

The sky fell behind them, and so did her pleasant mood. “Is that so?” she replied, her tone flat.

Kuroko gripped his teacup.

“Tetsuya-kun, I was honestly hoping that I wouldn’t have to remind you.” She said gravely, “Drop whatever it is that you children have going on. Sei-kun is our only heir. He has no time for playmates.” Her voice rang clear and sharp like a blacksmith’s iron striking against a sword being forged into shape.

Kuroko looked straight into her eyes as he spoke, “Then what are we, _haha-ue_?”

She looked quite startled then, before she finally let out a laugh. “I didn’t expect you to bring us into this. How sly, Tetsuya-kun, I seem to have rubbed off on you.” She sighed. “Though I suppose I do deserve it.”

“I won’t disagree with that.” A chilling voice cut in.

“Akashi-kun.” The blue-haired boy looked at the intruder. Akashi’s indifferent face gave nothing away, but to Kuroko he looked like he was out for blood.

Shiori scowled. “It seems you have forgotten your manners.”

 He strode into the room, sitting down next to Kuroko. “I tend to forego courtesy towards someone who tries to get in between Tetsuya and I.” He justified.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “You dare defy me?”

“If you stop playing puppeteer, you might come to see it differently.” He took the cup from Kuroko’s hands, making the shorter boy realize that he’d gripped it so hard he was about to break it.

“Why are you here?” She demanded, her patience running thin.

“To prevent you from filling Tetsuya’s head with nonsense.”

She scoffed, “Our conversation is none of your business.”

“And our relationship is none of yours.” He shot back, cutting and cold.

“You will not be pursuing a relationship with Tetsuya-kun.” She commanded.

“You do not control me, Mother.” It was baffling how Akashi managed to keep his cool. Kuroko was still reeling in shock by her change in demeanor. Kuroko had never suffered the brunt of her worse moods, but she had always remained cordial even when she was upset with him. Right now though she was explosive, like she would be set off any minute now. Something told Kuroko that her anger was exaggerated, and he only hoped that it wasn’t his naiveté talking.

Shiori seemed to have something planned and Kuroko wasn’t sure if it was going to end well for him or Akashi.

“You are under my control as long as I’m alive.” Her eyes narrowed, “Or have you forgotten your promise?” There was a sharp change in the atmosphere, enough to tell Kuroko that something forbidden had come to light. Akashi glared at her in warning, and Shiori kept quiet. The challenge clearly written in her eyes.

It was a long time before either of them said anything. Kuroko almost jumped when a hand brushed against his. He looked up to see Akashi smiling at him, with the warm comfort that tends to follow the morning sun after a stormy night in the desert. It gave Kuroko the confidence he didn’t know he needed.

He was reminded of their match against Jabberwock, a neck to neck battle that seemed to be getting nowhere. They came dangerously close to hanging off the edge of a cliff with the new player Jabberwock had subbed in. But the determination in their captain’s face and his words during their final time-out flared a renewed hope within all of them. It was that certainty that carried them over the edge of victory, and the whole world would remember Vorpal Swords soaring proudly like an eagle for the last few seconds of that match.

And it was with that same resolve that he looked at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mother.” Even time seemed to stop when it heard the conviction in his voice. “But I will not be bound to our family name anymore.”

“Akashi-kun.” Kuroko gasped, his astonishment speaking for both him and Shiori, who all but gaped at her son. Akashi stayed unmoving, letting the words sink into the ensuing silence of the room, burning their weight into the very framework of the Akashi household.

Shiori pursed her lips and headed over to her nightstand, taking out a couple of papers. Kuroko watched with trepidation climbing up his stomach as she slid them over to Akashi. Then Kuroko saw a flash of blue. He felt Akashi shift slightly. Both boys spotted it at the same time.

Sitting amongst the row of papers was a bank book.

“This is a bit earlier than I expected.” All traces of her earlier vitriol gone. “But thanks to Tetsuya-kun, I know that Sei-kun is ready now.” She spoke like the calm that came after the storm, no more warning, no more impending danger. Just the tranquil that draped over the aftermath.

“Sei-kun, when I was informed of my illness, I gave your father an ultimatum. I’m not aware of what kind of an opinion you might share about your father, but believe you me, he is a man of his word.” She took a deep breath. “I told him to do with you as he pleased, that I would not get in the way of your… upbringing, and so you were to be put through rigorous training in order for you to become a suitable heir, Sei-kun.”

She glanced at her son with a look that tore at Kuroko’s heart.

“And in return, I asked for you to be given the right to choose between your father’s company or emancipation from the family upon my day of passing.”

The words dropped like a guillotine on Kuroko’s head, and he could only wonder how Akashi must be taking it all, as he glanced at the boy sitting beside him. Akashi’s face was stoic perfection, there was not the barest hint of his thoughts in his expression. Kuroko was scared that if he touched Akashi right now, one of them might shatter into pieces.

Shiori pointed at the bank book. “I set up a bank account under your name years ago, Sei-kun. Funds to help you through the emancipation settlement, and they’re more than enough to cover your living expenses for the rest of your life.” She picked up some of the papers. “These are my title deeds that will be transferred to you once my will is read, along with the shares I hold in your father’s company.”

Akashi remained silent, his eyes glued to the papers simply because he had nowhere else to look at.

Shiori bit her lip. “I’ve always regretted that I wasn’t able to protect you anymore, Sei-kun. Every day I felt like you were going somewhere I could not reach. You must understand, I had no other choice.” Her voice shook and, Kuroko found, so did his heart.

This time it was Akashi who broke the silence. “Is this your way of atonement?” If statues could talk, they would share the voice of Akashi Seijūrō.

“No,” she smiled sadly, “It’s my way of letting you go.”

 

The walk home was draped in perpetual silence. Kuroko had said nothing when Akashi followed him through the security check, said nothing when Akashi entered the train car with him, said nothing when Akashi fell into step beside him as he walked in the direction to his house. The only thing that perhaps spoke was the absence of the moon tonight, and the stars that dissolved into the darkness until it was just the glaring streetlights that kept them company. Somewhere along the way, Akashi’s hand wound its way around his, and Kuroko had said nothing.

A tight grip on the shorter boy’s hand was the only gesture closest to an emotion Akashi allowed himself, so all Kuroko did was smile softly and squeeze back. But his smile faltered, and his fingers trembled, and so it was Kuroko who needed comforting. Because all he could think about was when Shiori called out to him as he was leaving with Akashi, telling him to meet her tomorrow. He had complied as always, and she gave him her usual breathtaking smile. Except this time it was not her unearthly beauty that struck him speechless, for all he saw sitting in that room was a woman who was dead before her time.

By the time he’d made it to his room the cold had already seeped into his bones. He lay there shivering under the comforter, trying his damnedest to ignore the sound of Time looming over him, never ceasing its sadistic ticking. A constant reminder of what was to come: the end.

 

….

Before Akashi Shiori became a monster, she was Seijūrō’s whole world.

Ever since he could remember, she had always come to his rescue like one of those funny-looking superheroes he saw on TV. His father would be the villain, all scary and evil with that stern of expression of his. That man never seemed to smile, and Seijūrō had to wonder if his face was just stuck like that. In a permanent frown.

Just like when he'd remind his son of his next tutoring lesson, and Seijūrō was too tired to protest. But his mother would swoop in, coming to save him.

"Sei-kun and I are going to the zoo today. Tell Ishizaki-sensei to kindly postpone his appointment."

Seijūrō turned towards the sweet voice as if on reflex. "Mama!" he greeted.

She smiled at him, but Father's voice interrupted them, "You keep pampering our son like that and he will forget his duty as part of the Akashi family."

Seijuurou thought his father made her angry because she was now wearing that same scary frown on her face. "If you do not wish to inform sensei, then I will go to him myself." She held out her hand, "Come, Sei-kun."

He readily grasped her hand, eager to escape the villainous glare from his father.

And that was just one of the many times his mother had rescued him. Being with her was the only time he could actually relax. When they were stuck in the house, she'd often let him rest in her lap as she told him stories about magic and princesses and knights. He would fall asleep thinking that just like in the stories, he had his own guardian too.

He had always believed that his mother was his hero.

So imagine Seijūrō’s surprise when she one day grabbed him by the shoulders and told him not to sleep in her lap anymore. "You mustn't misbehave, Seijuro."

"But mama--"

"You are not a child anymore, Seijūrō," she scolded. "I am not 'mama'."

He could not understand what was trying to say. "But you will always be mama."

"Seijūrō," she spoke harshly. It was the first time he heard her talk this way and he didn't like it. "You are not Sei-kun anymore. Remember who you are. Your name is Akashi Seijuro. You must not forget that you are Akashi."

"A...ka…shi." He repeated in a childish drawl, confused about what she meant.

She nodded. "Yes. Never forget it. You will be the one to carry on our name."

He was getting scared; she was starting to sound like father.

"From now on you will undergo intensive training to prepare you for your future as the heir to our empire." She declared.

He inched away from her.

"Your father and I expect you to carry out all your tasks without fail, Seijūrō. You must make no mistakes, or the consequences will be dire. Do you understand?"

He shuddered and nodded quietly.

"Remember that you are Akashi Seijūrō. There is no room for failure because you are an Akashi."

Didn't mother say to keep away from strangers? Then why was she acting like one?

He took another step back.

"Promise me you will never forget this. Seijūrō." She demanded.

"Yes," his voice came out weak, "Mother."

She smiled, but he didn't feel happy at all.

She turned towards the table and clutched a piece of paper filled to the edge with signatures and a bunch of printed words he couldn't understand. She looked like she was going to rip it into two, but she stayed still. Only her hands shook violently.

"You may leave." She said.

Seijūrō didn't need to be told twice.

He ran like there was a monster on his back, a hungry beast coming to take him. When he reached his room, he immediately dove under the covers.

"Mama… help." He hiccupped. Someone took mama away.

He couldn't tell who the woman staying in his mother's bedroom was.

Akashi Seijūrō was only 6 years old when he lost his mother.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wrote this fic just to make readers hate me. i m sroy


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